


Stay alive

by smoviescenes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Bottom Castiel, Bottom Dean, Choking, Cutting, Dark, Depressed Dean, Drunk Dean, Eventual Happy Ending, F/F, F/M, Hearing Voices, Hurt Dean Winchester, I feel sorry for him, I promise, Loss of Virginity, Lots of Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Panic Attacks, Poor Dean, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Self-Doubt, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Sex, Smut, Suicide Attempt, Top Castiel, Top Dean, Virgin Castiel, Vomiting, but sort of, not really - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-14
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-08 13:50:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 17
Words: 68,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8847532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smoviescenes/pseuds/smoviescenes
Summary: He’s shaking, goddamn it, his hands are shaking and he doesn’t know how to make it stop. His breaths come out in short bursts, not nearly enough oxygen for him to function properly, and he’s sweating and shaking and he’s feeling nauseous, and it doesn’t stop.  Growing up in a small town, Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak have known each other since they were little kids. After summer vacation five years ago, Dean suddenly stopped paying attention to Castiel, and the two boys grew apart. Now, they are in their last year of high school, and for some unknown reason Dean starts talking to Castiel again.And Castiel realizes that underneath the loud surface, Dean is falling apart.





	1. Prologue

PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE CONTINUING TO THE NEXT CHAPTER WHERE THE STORY BEGINS

There’s some seriously graphic depictions of self-harm in this fic. Like, detailed descriptions of self-harm, violence, self-hatred, panic attacks, non-con and so on. If any of this triggers you, please, please be warned. I will put warnings in the notes at the beginning, and…well…I’ll do brief summaries at the end of each chapter if there’s something you want/need to skip, but there’s like, so much crap in this that I really don’t know why you’d want to read it if you might be triggered. 

And if you think that I’m exaggerating, the very first chapter begins with self-harm. So, like, don’t say I didn’t warn you or anything. I’m a sadistic bastard and I can’t help it. This turned out to be a lot darker than I originally planned, but keep calm - I’m a sucker for happy endings.

If you ever need someone to talk to, feel free to inbox me (I’m @smoviescenes at tumblr). It’s not like I have any idea of what the hell to say in response, but I like to listen and help in any way I can. 

The title and the chapter titles are all from twenty one pilots songs, WHICH I OF COURSE DO NOT OWN. 

Last but not least, I love you all. Know that you are never alone. 

Let the story begin! 


	2. I've been thinking too much

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS:  
> Graphic depictions of self-harm and anxiety  
> Mentions of self-harm
> 
> Skip the very first part (until you see this: ∞). The mentions of self-harm is in the fourth paragraph (see the end notes for a summary).  
> \--  
> This is still a work in progress, but since I've got quite a few chapters done I'm going to be posting a new one every week (starting the second week of January since I'm going away for three weeks). Hopefully that will give me time to finish it! Comments and kudos are always appreciated, hope you enjoy xx

He’s shaking, goddamn it, his hands are shaking and he doesn’t know how to make it stop. His breaths come out in short bursts, not nearly enough oxygen for him to function properly, and he’s sweating and shaking and he’s feeling nauseous, and it doesn’t stop. 

He screams into his pillow because he has to be quiet, because his family is asleep and if they find out everything is going to get so much worse. 

He has to make the voice stop, has to drown it out, and there’s only one way to do that but he doesn’t want to because he’s been so good lately, he’s almost started to believe his own lie. 

_I know how you look into the mirror and hate what you see_.

He can’t take it anymore. Unsteady legs carry him to the bathroom, where he strips, sits in the bathtub and opens one of the drawers underneath the sink. His hands are shaking, and fuck, he drops shit on the floor and the noise is deafening in the near silence, but no one seems to notice it. No one ever notices. 

He finally finds what he’s been looking for, and he’s not even ashamed when he drags the razor sideways across his skin and watches as the blood starts to seep out.

It burns, but not enough, and he does it again and again and again, until his arm is painted red and there’s a criss-cross pattern of symmetrical lines on his skin.

Until his hands stop shaking. Then he turns the shower on, winces under the forceful stream of water and washes the traces of what he’s done down the drain.

He wraps bandage around his upper arm, the left one this time, and it pulsates like hell and hurts like a son of a bitch, but it’s good. 

He’s good. 

He sneaks back to his bedroom and crawls underneath the covers, and he can finally go to sleep. 

 

∞ 

 

”Castiel Novak you are the worst best friend ever!” Charlie exclaims and whacks him on the arm with the magazine she’s been reading. 

”I apologize, but Gabriel didn’t have anyone to go with and-”

”And? I don’t care about your frickin’ asshole of a brother. You went to see Star Wars without me, I can’t believe you!”

”Charlie, please-”

”Oh, what? Calm down? I _am_ calm, I just need to figure out whether to hit you again or just leave you here alone.” 

Castiel rolls his eyes and turns the page of the book in front of him. Trying to get homework done while Charlie is in her current mood is…difficult, to say the least. He can see her pouting in his peripheral vision, and looks up with a sigh. 

”I can see it again, it was good.”

”No spoilers?”

”I promise.” She eyes him suspiciously, as if she’s not sure whether or not to trust him, but ends up giving him a short nod. 

”Fine.” 

”Now, please, can I get back to my homework? I have a test tomorrow.” 

”That you’re going to ace, as always. But fine. I promised Dorothy I’d meet her by her locker at the end of last period, which should be any minute. Remember to pick up Anna from elementary!”

Castiel looks up with wide eyes as he realizes that he’s completely forgotten about his little sister, and shoots a quick glance at the clock. 2:53 pm. Still seven minutes until the end of last period, and a few more until Anna will be waiting for him.

”I’ll see you tomorrow, Cas,” Charlie says as a goodbye, throws him the star trek-salute (which she had to teach him how to do) and leaves the library. Castiel sighs deeply and looks at the textbook on the desk. It’s a biology test, which is one of his favorite subjects, but today it seems as if his brain is so cramped with facts that he can’t get any new ones in. He shuts the book with a little more force than necessary and gathers his papers into a neat pile. 

Burlington High school is too small for the number of students that go there, but it’s the only high school in town and there has been promises to add more classrooms now for years. Every class gets about ten minutes in the cafeteria to eat, starting at 10:30 am and going on until 1:30 pm. Three classes have PE at the same time. In Cas’ math class, they are almost forty students. 

It’s cramped, and it sucks because most of the students have known each other since they were kids, and that never works out well in high school. 

Castiel has some experience with being bullied, but so has nearly everyone else, and it’s nothing that he hasn’t been able to shrug off. Kids are mean, and to be fair, he wasn’t always the gentle and quiet guy that he is now. 

He doesn’t exactly think that his life is boring, it’s just…a normal life. He lives in a normal house with quite a normal family, his father is the town’s preacher but really down to earth, his mother a film critic, his little sister 12 years old and his older brothers 20 and 25. The oldest, Michael, moved to Lawrence to go to college a few years back and stayed there once he’d finished, and his other brother, Gabriel, is working at a café in town. 

He goes to pick up Anna now, who goes to the same elementary school as he did. His car is a little rusty and makes funny noises when he drives, but thankfully it’s still running. As he turns the key to start the engine it starts whining and groaning but at last it purrs to life and Castiel relaxes in his seat. The car does not like the cold weather, which it reminds him of every single day. 

Anna waits for him by the parking lot, red hair surrounding her face and the tip of her nose red from the wind. She jumps into the car and Castiel apologizes for being late, but she says that she doesn’t mind. When she holds her hands in front of the heater Castiel grabs the cold fingers and clamps them underneath his leg, making Anna laugh as she sits on her side but he knows that it’s helping. 

Back home, Castiel makes sandwiches for him and Anna and watches tv with her for a while, before retreating to his room to get some more homework done. He stays there even as he hears the rest of his family come home, and only comes out for dinner. 

His night is spent texting Charlie and watching Netflix, and he makes sure not to stay up too late so that he will be well rested for the test tomorrow. He brushes his teeth, puts on his pajamas, and when he turns the lights out he goes to sleep within minutes. 

–

The next day doesn’t go quite as he’d expected. He finishes the test early, unsure of whether he knew all the questions or didn’t know a single one, and leaves the classroom once the teacher has permitted it. Deciding to use the extra time to finish his english essay, he heads up to the library with his computer and a few textbooks, and when he pushes his way through the little crowd in the hallway outside the library he’s so focused on reading and replying to a text from Charlie that he doesn’t notice who he is pushing aside until an angry voice snaps in his ear. 

”What do you think you’re doing?” The words slam against him with a clear British accent, and he looks up into dark eyes and a slightly red face. 

”I-I’m going to the library,” Castiel stutters, flinching as the guy, Crowley, takes a step closer to him. 

”Hasn’t anyone taught you to show some respect?” A small round of laughter spreads through the group, and Castiel feels cornered. He recognizes every face, Crowley, Naomi, Raphael, Abaddon, and…

Dean. Dean Winchester, in the flesh. He’s watching him, too, and smirks as their eyes meet, cocking an eyebrow. 

If this had been ten years ago, Dean would have pushed Crowley away from Cas and told him to fuck off. He and Castiel would then have gone outside and played in the snow, or gone home to Castiel to watch a movie. Back then, Castiel didn’t know that Dean’s parents were insanely rich and lived in the mansion by the river, or that Dean would grow up to become the school’s number one celebrity, handsome, funny and outgoing. He also didn’t know that when Dean went to Italy for a three-week holiday one summer, a different person would come back. They haven’t spoken since then, and that was five years ago. 

Dean breaks the eye contact and pulls at Crowley’s black peacoat that he essentially never takes off, making way for Castiel to pass through.

”Cut it out,” he mumbles, with a sigh that shows how tired he is of trying to make Crowley behave as a human being. Castiel ducks his head down and shuffles through the rest of the group, and he tries to convince himself that the laughter he hears is not directed towards him. 

The image of Dean, so close again after all these years, brings back a lot of memories that keep Castiel distracted all day. He goes to pick up Anna, but only after running around the school in a panic for fifteen minutes does he remember that she has a short day and that Gabriel picked her up earlier. He doesn’t finish his english essay, not even after spending hours on it at home, and is in a strange mood when he heads downstairs to have dinner. 

”So, Castiel, how was your day?” his father asks, kind eyes scrutinizing his face. He shrugs and picks at his food, wondering why he isn’t hungry when he barely had any lunch. Chuck seems to understand his unwillingness to speak, and turns to Anna instead. 

”Anna?”

”It was good.” 

”Gabe?”

”All good.”

Chuck sighs and tilts his head, eyes flickering to his wife. 

”Such a talkative bunch we’ve raised, don’t you think Becks?”

”Can’t blame them when you’re always doing all the talking,” she teases, enticing a giggle from Anna. 

”I do not-”

”You do, daddy,” Anna interrupts, and squeals when Gabriel ruffles her hair. Cas’ eyes jump from person to person around the table, and he feels a swell of affection towards his family, because even though they don’t have a lot in common they’re all still here, caring about each other. 

–

Charlie picks him up Friday afternoon to have dinner at her place before going to the movies. She lives in a cramped flat with her girlfriend Dorothy, both of them orphans and they preferred living on their own rather than with Dorothy’s stepdad, who’d offered two rooms in his house more than once. Castiel was secretly jealous of the freedom of living alone, but quickly changed his mind when Charlie started going on about bills and cooking every day (” _every day_ , Cas, every single day”). 

Dorothy is usually not one for going to the movies, but today she’s changed her mind, which is why Castiel has to ride in the back of Charlie’s tiny VW beetle, leaning forwards with his elbows on his knees to not hit his head on the ceiling. 

Charlie and Dorothy hog the popcorns and hold each other’s hands and whisper into each other’s ears, and Castiel understands that they’re not doing it on purpose, but he still feels left out. 

Since he’s already seen the movie, he excuses himself after only a few minutes to go to the bathroom, needing an escape. The hallway outside the showroom is empty and quiet, and he looks around uncertainly, heading to the bathrooms to at least have a drink of water. 

The room is darkly lit, walls and floor an opaque navy blue and Castiel notices that one of the stalls are occupied as he leans over the sinks to wash his hands, enjoying how the hot water seeps into his bones.

At first, he thinks that some of the sounds from the movies that are playing are echoing around the room, but when he hears what can only be a sob he stiffens. Whoever is in that stall is crying, and he’s sure of it. 

He’s just about to call out and ask if the person is alright, when there’s a loud bang followed by a series of dull thumps and the person, a man judging by his voice, is grunting and sobbing and muttering a series of indecipherable words. 

”Hey, are you alright?” Castiel exclaims, turning the faucet off before taking a step closer to the noise that dies out as soon as he speaks. There’s a little shuffling noise and Castiel hears a few deep breaths, before he gets a reply.

”’m fine, don’t worry.” 

Castiel shudders involuntarily, because he recognizes that voice and he’s never heard it sound so broken. 

”Dean?” he asks softly, and puts his hand against the cool surface of the door. The silence that follows is heavy, and Castiel doesn’t know whether to ask again or run out of there and go back to Charlie and Dorothy’s never-ending flirtations. 

”Cas,” Dean rasps, not a question so much as a plead for help, and Castiel is surprised to see the little red semicircle turn white. He takes it as an invitation to open the door, which he does.

Castiel didn’t know quite what to expect behind that door, but it was certainly not to be faced by Dean, on his feet, a weak smile on his face and hands in his pockets. 

”I should get back to the movie, Sammy probably wonders where I am.” 

”Dean,” Castiel breathes, but takes a step back as Dean takes one forwards, leaving the stall and Castiel behind him. 

”Cas,” he retorts, and goes to wash his face and hands by the sinks. 

”What’s going on?” 

”A guy can’t take a bathroom break without being questioned?” Dean grins and reaches for the paper towels to his right, but Castiel grabs his wrist and locks his eyes with that intense look of his that used to be able to make Dean budge. His smile falters, and when he tries to glue it back on, Castiel can see the hidden pain in his eyes. 

”What have you done?” Castiel says quietly, twisting Dean’s arm to get a good look at the angry bruises that are blooming on his knuckles. Dean snatches his arm back and tries to copy his stare but it’s not worth it.

Castiel has always been able to see straight through him. 

”’s nothing,” he mumbles, and this time Castiel lets him dry his hands. 

”Are you alright?” he tries again, and Dean shoots him an amused look. 

”Me? I’m fan-freaking-tastic, baby,” he chuckles, and anyone else would probably believe him but Castiel doesn’t. He watches Dean leave without another word and wonders what is going on in that man’s head. 

-

Coming face-to-face with Dean twice in just one week is odd, seeing as Castiel rarely sees him at all at school, and what’s even more odd is when Castiel is studying in the library Tuesday afternoon and is interrupted by none other than Dean Winchester sitting down across from him. 

”Hey,” he says, almost as if he’s in a rush, and Castiel just looks at him, dumbstruck. ”Y’know, it’s considered rude not to reply to a greeting,” he adds, and Castiel snaps into action. 

”Hello, Dean,” he replies, enticing a small chuckle. 

”Are you still a brainiac when it comes to maths? My teacher just told me that if I don’t get a good grade on my next test, I’m going to fail the entire course.”

”Uh-” Castiel doesn’t know what to think. He doesn’t think at all, really, he’s just trying to take in the fact that _Dean Winchester_ is sitting no more than three feet away from him. 

”I was wondering if you could help me? I mean, if you’ve got the time?” 

”When is the test?” Castiel manages, and feels his heart drop when Dean replies.

”Thursday.”

”Dean, that’s two days from now.”

”Which is why I’m asking you. Remember when you explained the entire book to me the night before our final exam in sixth grade?”

”That was different, this is- this math is much more complicated.”

”Come on, I know you can do it. You were always so great at making me understand things.”

Cas wants to say no, he really does. Because _Dean Winchester_ should not be talking to him at all. Because they’ve barely looked at each other for the last five years, and now he’s acting like they are friends again?

The truth is that Dean hurt Castiel, but he is a guy so he’s not supposed to still remember that, but he does. He’s not supposed to miss having Dean as his best friend, but he does, and screw it if Gabriel calls him a little girl for it. Screw not being allowed to express his feelings. 

”Why me? Why now? We have ignored each other for years.” Dean actually looks a little ashamed at that, as he brings a hand up to the back of his neck and lowers his gaze ruefully. 

”Yeah, well… When I saw you the other day I remembered that you used to be good at maths, so I figured, why not ask the guy. But I understand if you don’t have the time to help me, that’s alright.” 

Castiel is confused by him, because Dean is supposed to be self-confident and outgoing and now he’s rambling and blushing and he’s trying to leave. It doesn’t make any sense whatsoever, but Castiel knows one thing. He can’t be friends with Dean Winchester. 

”I can help you now, but tomorrow I’m busy,” Castiel says with a sigh, and frowns as Dean’s face lights up. The situation is just getting weirder and weirder.

”Awesome!” Dean pulls out a textbook and a pen, opening the page to a chapter that Castiel remembers doing last year, since he’s in the advanced math class that goes at a quicker pace than the rest of the school. Dean quickly explains what he does and doesn’t understand, and Castiel pulls out the technique of explaining that used to work on Dean. It still does, and after only a few minutes they’ve crossed off two chapters and Dean is already looking a lot more at ease. 

”Dude, you should become a teacher. Mrs. Harrisson has been trying to explain this to me for months, and it takes you seconds.” 

”It’s because I know how to make you understand,” Castiel says, without considering his words, and he realizes that they come out sounding a bit too gentle. When he looks up, however, Dean has that soft smile on again that makes the corners of his eyes crinkle. 

”Man, I’ve missed you,” he says suddenly, and seems as taken aback by his words as Castiel is. They both freeze in their positions, eyes locked and Dean’s mouth is hanging open. 

”Dean-”

”’m sorry, forget about it. What about the algebra, look at this…” Dean continues, as if they hadn’t just had an extremely uncomfortable silence between them, and Castiel has to focus because he’s supposed to be able to answer his questions. Dean takes in every word that he says, and makes little notes in the margins of the textbook, and soon they’ve been there for more than an hour and Dean looks up at the clock on the wall. 

”I’ve got to get to soccer practice, Sonny will kick my ass if I’m late again. Thanks for the help, Cas,” Dean says as he’s roughly cramming his books back into his bag and slings it over his shoulder. 

”Good luck with your test.” Castiel offers a smile, knowing how awkward he sounds but Dean laughs it off. 

”Yeah, hopefully I won’t get another F at least. See you.” 

He leaves, and Castiel is so confused by everything that’s just happened that he doesn’t know what to do with himself. 

–

He spends the next days with Charlie and Dorothy, not minding being the third wheel for once because Dean is constantly on his mind. They do interact with him, because they’re not completely oblivious of his presence, but he understands that it’s difficult with how distracted he is. Charlie even goes so far as to ask him if something’s happened, but he shakes his head and shrugs in response. 

Even Gabriel notices his unusual quietness, and tries to cheer him up even though he’s not actually upset. He doesn’t know why he’s so lethargic all of a sudden, he’s just…Stuck on thinking about green eyes and memories from his childhood. 

He thinks about being left behind a lot. Of starting seventh grade and thinking that everything was as it always had been, when Dean showed up and suddenly refused to look at him. It hurt when it happened, and it still hurts to think about, but it was a long time ago. 

A few days later he is walking home from school, because his mother had to borrow his car to go to a movie festival, and he wouldn’t mind if it hadn’t been for the snow slash rain that finds every seam in his coat and makes its way inside until he’s completely soaked. He’s half running on the sidewalk, head bowed down to shield his eyes from the worst of the rain, when a car horn honks and he quickly steps to the side. It stops just a few feet in front of him, and when Castiel reaches it he recognizes Dean inside, waving at him to get around the car. 

Castiel doesn’t think of the consequences of getting into Dean’s car, he just dashes around it, opens the door and shuts it behind him with a revealed sigh. 

”Thank you,” he says, and Dean chuckles on the seat next to him. 

”Why are you walking? It’s pouring outside.”

”Is it? I had no idea,” Castiel bites back, but Dean only laughs and watches him run his hands through his hair to rearrange it into some form of order. 

”Let me,” he says softly, and before Castiel can stop him he has raised his hand and corrected some stray strands of hair. Castiel just stares at him dumbly, even more so when Dean grins and pulls his hand back. 

”What?” 

”Nothing,” Castiel blurts quickly, wondering if his cheeks are as red as they feel. 

”You need a ride home?” 

”There’s no need for that, just drop me off at the nearest bus station.” Dean hums in response and turns the engine on, rock music immediately blaring through the speakers. When Dean leans forwards Castiel guesses that it is to turn the volume down, but Dean twists the knob the other way, the bass pounding through their bodies and when the singer starts shouting out words, Dean sings along. 

They pass a bus station, and then another, and Castiel wants to tell Dean but it’s kind of difficult to with the ear-splitting music surrounding them. His house is actually on the way to Dean’s home, but he’s not sure if Dean remembers that and wonders if he’ll have to tell him to stop. Or if Dean’s even going home, there’s no knowing where the young Winchester is headed. He takes them on a route that Castiel knows is not the closest one, but as Dean keeps on singing and the music takes over his body he can feel himself relaxing. 

He remembers riding in the same car, Dean’s mother behind the steering wheel and music turned on to the loudest setting as they all sang along even though they didn’t know the words. The car, that was so big when he was younger, feels more normal-sized now, even though it’s still a monster. 

Dean seems to love it, though, patting the dashboard every now and then and drumming on the steering wheel with his fingers. Castiel wouldn’t tear his eyes off him even if he could, and something comes to life inside him as he sees Dean like this. Happy. It’s nearly enough for him to forget about the broken look in his eyes when they met in the bathroom at the movies. 

The song reaches the bridge, and when Dean’s voice breaks as he tries to hit the high notes Castiel laughs, he can feel it vibrating in his chest, and it’s a good feeling. 

”Favorite song, it needs to be listened to properly,” Dean explains as he turns the volume down once the song has ended. 

”I don’t mind.”

”Good thing, because I wasn’t apologizing. Led Zeppelin, baby,” he laughs, already drumming along with the rhythm of the next song. 

”I recognize this one,” Castiel exclaims, somehow knowing the softer piano chords even though it’s been years since he last heard it. 

”Mom always used to play it,” Dean says with a shrug, and when he starts to sing along, his voice wraps around Castiel like a warm embrace and he never wants him to stop. 

”I like this song,” Castiel sighs as it ends, and he notices that the car has stopped. 

Outside his house. 

He turns to Dean, unsure of what to say, but Dean takes care of that for him. 

”Seemed unnecessary for you to waste money on a bus ticket when your house was on the way home.”

”Thank you, Dean.” He flashes a little smile then, the same soft one as in the library the other day. The rare smile that you wouldn’t notice if you weren’t looking for it. 

”Your voice’s gotten really low.” He says it as a joke, but Castiel can still hear the sincerity in his voice. An observation, a comment that shows that he is aware of how much time has passed and how much they’ve grown apart. 

”Yours too,” Castiel says at last. Dean nods slowly, like he has to concentrate really hard to keep up the motion, and he crosses his arms in front of his chest, hands wrapped around his upper arms. 

Castiel wants to ask him about what happened in the bathroom at the cinema, but he’s too afraid of breaking the semi-stable bond that’s forming between them to say anything. He should be going inside, to change out of his wet clothes and get some homework done, but he doesn’t want to move. 

”Do you ever miss being a kid?” Dean asks suddenly, taking Castiel by surprise. He considers the question, but isn’t quite sure how to answer it. 

”I miss…When the worst thing you could do was accidentally draw outside the lines. I miss sneaking my vegetables to Tuck underneath the table so I wouldn’t have to eat them myself.” 

”Oh my god, Tuck,” Dean smiles, chuckling to himself as he seems to draw up some memories of the dog. ”He used to take my shoes and hide them all around your house.”

”And then your dad would get so pissed because he had to go looking for them while we kept on playing,” Castiel adds, and they laugh in unison. 

”Is he still alive?”

”Yes, but he’s really old now. He’s all grey hairs and he sleeps all the time.” 

”Huh.” Castiel thinks that that will be the end of the conversation, but Dean clears his throat and adds, ”How is Chuck?”  
”You’re asking me how my father is doing?”  
”Well yeah, dude. It’s been a long time.”

”I suppose that he is alright,” Cas frowns. 

”Good, that’s good. Still preachin’ on?” 

”That is his job, yes.” Dean wipes his hand over his face and reveals a smile that Castiel remembers. It’s the ’you’re kind of stupid but I don’t mind’-smile, and it’s one Castiel hasn’t seen in a long time. He likes to believe that Dean reserves it only for him, even if it means that he’s considered to be kind of stupid. 

”You should probably go,” he says at last, eyes a bit colder than before and Castiel wants to warm them up again but he doesn’t know how to do that. 

”Right. Thank you for the ride.”

”No problem. See you at school.” 

Castiel leaves the car feeling like he’s left a conversation that he should have finished.

–

It’s biology, Castiel’s favorite subject, and he sits on the left side of the classroom by the windows, his favorite seat. The lesson hasn’t quite started yet since the teacher is busy talking to one of the students, but Castiel is already buried inside his textbook and he straightens up with a start as the chair next to him is pulled out. 

”Can I sit here?” Dean asks, and Castiel can only nod, dumbstruck as he is. 

”What are you doing?” he gets out at last, and Dean gives him a confused look. 

”I’m sitting with you instead of on my own at the back of the classroom. Didn’t you know that we share this class?” 

Castiel is all too aware of which classes they share, since he’s made it a principle to avoid Dean at all costs - especially during biology, english, PE, and history. That Dean has noticed too, well…

He doesn’t quite know what to make of that. 

The teacher starts talking, making it impractical for them to carry any sort of conversation, and Castiel’s focus drifts from Dean too evolution and different species. He takes notes and absently chews on the end of his pencil whenever he’s listening, and it takes several minutes for him to notice that Dean is watching him. 

He cocks an eyebrow in his direction, a question of why Dean isn’t looking at the teacher, and gets a crooked grin in response. With an eye-roll and an over-dramatic sigh Castiel turns forwards again, but now he finds it hard to take in what the teacher is saying. 

Dean’s gaze is heavy on his skin, making him feel exposed and naked. He stomps the sensations down, because he’s not supposed to feel like this, but they only grow stronger and he can feel his heart pounding in his chest as his palms begin to sweat. 

It all becomes too much, and he shoots his hand up into the air, urging the teacher to call on him. 

”Yes, Novak?”

”May I go to the bathroom?” 

”Be quick about it,” the teacher says, gesturing towards the door. Castiel nods a thank you and rushes out, Dean’s presence following him until he’s shut the classroom door behind him and is leaning against the wall outside. He shakes his head to clear it, and decides to walk down the corridor a few times, needing to do something other than stand still. A door is opened but he doesn’t look back, and suddenly he is pushed in between two lockers by strong hands and when the wall hits his back green eyes meet his. 

As always when confused, Castiel freezes, and he doesn’t know what is going on when suddenly Dean has pulled away, hurt flickering across his face. Dean had been looking for something in Castiel’s eyes, but he gets the feeling that neither of them know exactly what.

”Fuck you,” he spits, but before he can walk away Castiel grabs his hand tightly. ”Get off me,” Dean tries, tugging against Castiel’s grip and it’s enough to get him to snap back into action. 

”Stop, just stop fighting,” Castiel urges, feeling how Dean’s superior strength is going to break his grip. ”Dean,” he growls, and that does it. 

Dean’s movements slow until he’s just breathing heavily, eyes flickering across Castiel’s face and he wishes that he knew what was going on behind those green emeralds. 

”What do you want, Dean? Do you want us to be friends? Is that it?” Castiel releases his grip but slowly, not knowing if he’s going to get punched or laughed at, he raises his hands to Dean’s face, gently cradling it. When Dean doesn’t immediately push him away he rubs the pads of his thumbs across sharp cheekbones, smiling as Dean closes his eyes. 

”Is this what you want?” he continues, and leans forwards, the distance between them shrinking until their lips touch and Dean hums against him.

”What do you want?”

”I don’t know,” Dean whispers, breaking them apart. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First paragraph: Dean can't sleep because of the voices in his head, so he self-harms.  
> Fourth paragraph: Castiel goes to the cinema with Charlie and Dorothy, is bored because he's already seen the movie and leaves to go to the bathroom. He hears someone crying and hitting the walls, and finds out that it's Dean. They talk briefly before Dean leaves.


	3. Behind my eyelids

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh god. Okay. Let's see.  
> WARNINGS:  
> Dark thoughts/guilt (after Dean has gotten into the Impala)  
> Slight anxiety attack (in the Impala)  
> Real anxiety attack (in Dean's room)  
> Self-harm (very last part, in the bathroom)

Dean Winchester is the king of the school, and he loves it. 

Well, he used to love it, at least. And he is supposed to love it. The constant attention, every eye on him as he walks through the corridors, skipping class every now and then because he’s Dean frickin’ Winchester and he doesn’t need to learn about Newton or algebra or whatever. 

The bad habits that he’s set up during high school are easy to blame on Crowley, but to be honest, Dean is just as guilty. 

In the summers they prefer hiding out in the forest behind the school, but now that the weather doesn’t allow hours of out-door activity they usually just find an empty classroom to crash in during the day. 

He’s on the floor now, because that’s where he usually ends up, tossing crumpled pieces of paper towards the rubbish bin while Crowley smokes by the window. Dean was quite a chain-smoker for a while too, until his mom found out and pretty much tore the walls of his room down to find every last pack and burn it. Never once had she or his dad laid a hand on him, but he knew that that was the closest they’d ever come to it. 

”What’s wrong with you?” Crowley says suddenly, and Dean looks up, startled. He crosses his arms in front of his chest and wraps his fingers around his biceps, the usual protective stance that he retreats to when he feels threatened, and clenches his jaw.

”What are you talking about?”

”You’re all quiet and pensive nowadays. Do you want to bum a cigarette?”

”You know I quit.”

”Then what the hell is the matter?” Dean shrugs and absently picks at a loose hangnail. He is rescued by the arrival of the rest of the crew, which includes Naomi, Gordon and Abaddon, and for once he is actually happy to see them. Anything to get Crowley to stop talking.

”What’s up?” he calls with a nod in their general direction as they enter the classroom and take up various seats, all spread out like they don’t really want to hang out but have nowhere else to go. Or maybe that’s just how Dean feels. He can feel his thoughts start to drift again, and when Abaddon asks him what’s wrong he flips her off.

”What happened to you?” she scoffs, earning a quiet chuckle from Crowley. 

”I think our boy here is suffering from blue balls. Hasn’t had a pussy in weeks.”

”Shut up, Crowley!” Dean growls, and the brit raises his hands in a placating gesture. 

”No harm meant, no harm done. Just trying to look out for you.” 

”Because that usually works out so well.” Dean wants to leave. _Now_. But he doesn’t have anywhere to go and if he leaves he’ll have to explain himself the next time they meet up. Instead he buries his face in his hands and counts to ten. When that doesn’t seem to work, he continues to twenty, thirty, forty, fifty-

And there’s a hand on his shoulder that definitely belongs to Abaddon, and he doesn’t want her to touch him but he can’t tell her to stop. 

”I know something that’d help you blow off some steam,” she suggests, and Dean wants so badly to be able to say no to her but he’s supposed to say yes. He has to, right? Because he’s Dean fucking Winchester who fucks at least one girl every fucking week and fucking loves it. She sees the fight leave his eyes and grabs his hand, pulling him to his feet and then out of the classroom, followed by loud cheers from inside. The hallways are cramped with students, but they make way when tall, redheaded Abaddon marches through and Dean just sort of follows, not even caring that he looks small and weak right now. He just needs to get this over with, quick, and then maybe he’ll feel a little less like shit. 

Abaddon directs them to the nearest bathroom where she pulls them inside, and as she locks the door and pulls off her tank top Dean shuts off all of his emotions. Now he is nothing but a man, about to do what he does. He shoves her up against the door and ignores her groan at his rough treatment, already unbuttoning her pants and pulling them down along with her lacy panties. He stops for a split second to run his fingers along them and admire the soft fabric, before he’s shoving his own pants down to his ankles. His cock bobs free, half hard and seeping pre-come, and the need to be inside her is so strong that he nearly blacks out for a moment to just _take what is his_ , but he stops himself by biting his own bottom lip hard.

”You got a condom?” he rasps, and can practically hear her roll her eyes. 

”Guys,” she sighs exasperatedly, but untangles herself from his hold and bends down to her jeans, where she fishes out a single condom. Standing up, she tears the foil open with her teeth. She rolls it onto Dean’s cock with practiced hands and gives it a few strokes, getting the pressure to build enough for his legs to start to shake and he roughly turns her around to face the wall. Smooth, pale skin and a gorgeous ass is just waiting for him, ready for _him_ , and he grabs her hipbones hard enough to leave bruises as he pushes his cock in between her legs. He relentlessly searches for that spot where he can push inside further, and suddenly he slips inside her and bottoms out in one thrust, ignoring her startled gasp. Once fully inside, he stills, taking in the feeling of being buried so deep inside another human, of being so close that he can for a second forget the fact that he loathes her with every cell of his body. 

”Come on, what are you waiting for? Fuck me,” she exclaims, and with a growl he pulls out almost all the way before slamming back inside. He repeats the movement, and is pleased when she stumbles forwards with the force of each thrust, not strong enough to push him back. He moves one hand from her hip to her shoulder, taking hold there to gain enough leverage to thrust even harder. By now he's just going through the motions, searching for something without knowing quite what until she starts clenching around him, breaths coming out in short bursts and it’s enough to make his cock swell even more before he finally comes, hips stuttering and jerking forwards a few times before he stills and pulls out, cock spent and limp between his legs. 

He doesn’t know what he’d expected, but at least it hadn’t been this numb feeling that he feels now. 

At least he prefers it to feeling too much at once. 

They get dressed in silence, no shared kisses or nervous laughter as they leave the bathroom again. No one suspects anything, and if they do they know better than to say anything to their faces. Rumors will be spread around the hallways, but right now, Dean couldn’t care less. 

He feels like he’s going to throw up. 

Abaddon returns to the rest of the group while Dean goes outside, opting to sit in the Impala instead as long as it means that he can be alone. His next lesson is maths, and after bailing on the test last week he really doesn’t feel like explaining himself to his teacher. Inevitably, his thoughts are drawn to Cas, and with a smile he remembers how much their short study session in the library actually helped him. If only his teachers were like Cas, then maybe he’d be interested in school. 

It’s freezing outside, and not much warmer inside his car, so he turns the ignition on for heat and music, and stretches out in the front seat. His brother finishes school in one hour, and then he’ll go pick him up, drive him home to get something to eat before getting him to track and field practice while he plays soccer. At least he has something to keep him occupied. 

_Hey Jude, don’t make it bad_

_Take a sad song, and make it better_

The lyrics enter his brain, familiar and warm and he feels like crying. Whatever happened to that four year old boy who’d only fall asleep if his mother sang to him? What happened to the young boy who knew right from wrong? The boy who’d never ignore his best friend because some mean kids at school had told him that a rich kid like him shouldn’t be hanging out with someone like Cas? 

_And anytime you feel the pain, hey Jude, refrain_

_Don't carry the world upon your shoulders_

Every day he saw Cas was torture. Knowing that the pain and confusion in the blue eyes was caused by him, that it was his fault that Cas was hurting, was more than he could bear. He kept trying to tell himself that it was for the best, that Cas was better off without him and that the guy had friends now, real friends who wouldn’t leave him behind. Who wouldn’t be tricked and used by Crowley, because the demon knew how to pick his friends. Dean was powerful and popular, which Crowley used to improve his own status. 

Dean was still haunted by the look in Cas’s eyes as they had started seventh grade and he had forced himself to look away, to not answer when Cas asked what was wrong, why he was being ignored, what he had done wrong. 

Somehow, that hurt the most - Cas thinking that _he_ had done something to deserve being treated like dust. As if he was the one who was being an asshole and not Dean. 

It still keeps him up most nights, keeping him awake when all he needs is to sleep. 

A sharp knock on the window startles him from his thoughts, and he is faced by brilliant, ocean-blue eyes and raven black hair so gorgeous that all he wants to do is run his hands through it. He straightens up and leaves his dark thoughts behind, opening the door for Cas to come in and, oh shit. 

The kiss. 

_The kiss_. 

He’d forced every thought of the kiss away, something to deal with later (or preferably never), but now Cas is here and the question is written all over his lips.

_What do you want, Dean?_

If only he knew that. 

”Hello, Dean,” he says, and his voice is so deliciously gravelly that Dean licks his lips before he knows what he’s doing. There’s a part of him that wants to grab Cas and kiss him breathless, to fuck him and crush him under his weight afterwards, to feel stubble against his cheek as they breathe into each other’s ears. His entire body is screaming at him to let go and just bury himself in the feeling of being at Cas’ mercy, because there is no one else that he would trust enough to do so. There is no one else outside of his family that he trusts, period. 

He remembers that Cas used to be family too, before Dean screwed everything up. _Damn it_ , he just screws everything up. He can’t get anyone to stay, no one really wants to stay with him which he understands, because he’s a fucking mess and if he doesn’t like himself, how can he expect someone else to like him? To love him? 

Cas is gay, that much Dean knows. He knows because once upon a time Cas trusted him as well, enough to tell him from a spare bed on the floor in Dean’s room when the lights had been turned out. Cas had known that he wouldn’t be laughed at, or hated because of it, he’d had such faith in Dean that it makes him sad to think that he will never, ever deserve that kind of faith again. And maybe Dean wouldn't call himself homosexual per se, but he sure as hell isn't straight. If he's being honest with himself, his fantasies have drifted away from large tits and curves and now consist more of strong arms, stubble and gravelly voices. Dean may or may not have jerked off with thoughts of Cas on his mind last night. No one would ever know, right? 

There’s a hand on his arm, more like two fingers touching him, and he’s thinking of shoving them away because he really doesn’t like to be touched, but the fingers send little bursts of electricity through his skin and he can’t help but love it. 

”Dean, are you alright?”

He’s been holding his breath for a while, he can feel that now, and he gasps deeply to make up for the lack of oxygen. 

”’m good,” he grunts, because he has to be, and even if he wasn’t he wouldn’t want to burden Cas with the truth. 

”No, you’re not. Tell me what’s wrong.”

For a moment he wishes that he could. That Cas was still his best friend and that he could tell him all the fucked up shit that’s been going through his head because maybe that’s what he needs. A friend that isn’t his baby brother. 

He looks Cas in the eye and wants to tell him, but instead he says, ”I failed my maths test.” Cas frowns and tilts his head, and it’s so adorable and familiar that Dean chuckles at the motion.

”I thought we made good progress in the library last week. I apologize if I wasn’t clear enough-”

”S’not your fault, Cas. I didn’t even show up for it.”

”Oh.”

”Yeah.”

”You could ask your teacher if you could try again,” he tries, but the tone in his voice suggests that he already knows Dean’s answer. 

”What’s the point?” Dean whispers, much weaker than he intended to, and hangs his head forwards, feeling the tendons in his neck stretch out. 

”The point is that you want to get at least an E in each of your courses so you won’t have to go through the last year once more. Don’t you want to graduate with us?”

_Us_. He says it so easily, as if there is an _us_ that Dean belongs to. He feels a burn behind his eyelids and he wants Cas to leave, now, so he can cry without being watched. He hates crying, fucking hates it, but there’s no stopping the tears once they start to spill.

”Damn it,” he curses weakly, and buries his face in his hands. Wet rivers make their way between his fingers and he can feel the tears fall on his jeans, effectively marking them with his weakness. 

”Just leave,” he manages to get out, and he can feel Cas hesitating beside him even as he’s silently breaking down in the driver’s seat. 

”Can I touch you?” Cas asks quietly, and Dean wants to say no but he also wants arms around him and what better embrace is there but Cas’s?

”I guess.” The instant he gives his consent hands are on him, one on each shoulder and they guide him closer to a warm body and a lovely familiar smell. His fingers grab on to whatever fabric they can find and once his face is buried in Cas’ shirt he starts sobbing shamelessly, not even knowing why he’s breaking apart but Cas doesn’t seem to care. He just holds him tightly, not saying a single word as Dean shakes and inches closer, impossibly close, nudging his face into Cas because it’s all he ever wanted. 

The sobs ebb out at last, until nothing but a silent stream of tears run down his cheeks. He feels like he should straighten up, but damn it, he doesn’t want to. 

”’m sorry,” he mumbles, and can feel Cas’s body stiffen where they touch.

”Why are you apologizing?”

”Dunno, for ruining your shirt? Making you watch this?”

”Don’t ever apologize for needing to let your feelings out,” Cas says, with such certainty that it startles Dean. He stays still, because he’s afraid of moving. Of making Cas think that he’s done something wrong again. 

”I worry about you,” Cas whispers, quiet enough that Dean could have pretended not to hear him, but of course he doesn’t. 

”You really shouldn’t. It ain’t worth wasting your time worrying about me.” 

”Stop saying things like that,” Cas growls, and Dean actually flinches at how angry his voice gets. ”Stop talking as if you do not matter, as if you’re unimportant. Dean, you are so important. If only you knew.” 

Dean can’t take it. He pulls away from Cas, even though it hurts to see the flicker of doubt and pain in his eyes, and he takes a deep breath. He already hurt Cas enough, he already broke him once and he’s not going to let him in close enough to risk being hurt again. Now he just has to make him leave without being a total Winchester about it.

”Thank you, Cas. Really. But I’ve got to go now, Sammy’s waiting for me to pick him up.” 

It’s a bit of a lie, but only by a few minutes. Cas looks as if he wants to say something more, but he stops himself and nods, quietly getting out of the car.

”I’ll see you?” he says, more of a question than a goodbye, but Dean doesn’t answer it. The door is shut without another word, and when Cas’ back has disappeared from his view Dean bashes the dashboard until bruises have formed on his hands. 

–

He plays like shit on soccer practice. Sonny asks him if something’s wrong, Victor tells him that they could hang out if he wants to, Ash gives him a puzzled look and when Benny hugs him goodbye Dean can hear the unspoken question if he’s alright. He has to run away from all of them, has to be alone right now because everything is just too much. 

Sam’s track and field finishes before his soccer, meaning that his little brother is already waiting by the car when he shows up. 

”How was soccer?” he asks, sweaty hair plastered to his face and a dopey smile on his face. 

”Get in the car,” Dean growls, too messed up to take in any words other than the ones from inside his mind. His hands shake as he tries to get the key in, and even worse when he finally, _finally_ gets it in and has to turn it, because he almost pulls it out again while trying to turn it and _shit_ , it’s a fucking key and it’s the Impala, but he can’t calm down. 

”Dean, what’s wrong?” 

”I swear to god, next person who asks me that I’m going to start throwing punches!” Dean exclaims, and the short outburst is all he needs to get his hands steady enough to start the engine. Once he can lock his fingers in a death grip around the steering wheel he feels a little bit better, and he manages to get on the road without crashing the car. 

”Shouldn’t have snapped at you,” he says after a few moments of awkward silence, and he can see his brother relax in the seat next to him. The same place where Cas sat a few hours earlier…

No. Can’t think about that right now. 

”How was track?” Dean asks, needing to make Sam talk because then he will think that everything’s alright. That his older brother isn’t falling apart inside. 

”There was a new girl who joined the team, runner just like me.” 

”Yeah? What’s her name?”

”Jessica, but she asked me to call her Jess.” Dean laughs softly at that, hearing the adoration in Sam’s voice. 

”She nice?”

”The nicest!” 

Mission to distract little brother: accomplished. Sam chats the entire ride home, with the occasional question and comment from Dean to show that he’s still listening, which he is. Sam’s talking is distracting both of them enough to make Dean feel a little bit better once he turns on the indicators to show that he’s turning off the main road.

The road that welcomes them is packed dirt and a little too uneven for the Impala, but they manage to avoid the potholes and bumps. As the mansion comes into view Sam falls quiet, his eyes fixed on his hands while Dean does a lap around the courtyard before backing into the open garage, where he parks next to his father's Shelby. The brothers get out of the car and are immediately welcomed by Bones, Tails and Angel, their three dogs that someone thought it wise to let Sam name five years ago. Bones and Tails circle around Sam gleefully while Angel, darker and quieter than the other two, presses her body against Dean’s legs and looks up at him with wise eyes. 

”Yeah, I missed you too, girl,” he says softly, giving her an affectionate back rub. They grab their sports bags and head to the main house, letting the dogs go inside first. Before Dean enters, Sam grabs his arm and pulls him back outside. 

”Don’t interrupt me, and don’t talk back. I just want you to know that I’m here. If you need me.”

”Bitch,” Dean replies, which earns him a lopsided grin. 

”Jerk.” 

They part ways inside after shrugging their winter clothes off, Sam heading to his room on the bottom floor while Dean heads up the stairs, Angel on his heels. He lets them inside his room, where the dog takes place on his bed while he sits at the desk, gaze flickering across the papers and textbooks that lay there. God, he needs to study. 

Thinking about studying inevitably brings his mind back to Cas, and in a split second he is hyperventilating, lungs heaving too shallow breaths that makes his head swim and his chest hurt. 

”Fuck-fuck-fuck,” he mumbles, and damn it, why is he reacting this way now? He was fine just seconds ago, still exhausted from crying in the car and then panicking from all the questions circling him, but still sort of fine. He gets to his feet, pacing softly across the room so as to not startle Sam downstairs, and clasps his hands behind his neck. 

”I’m good,” he whispers, wanting nothing more than for it to be true. 

_What do you want?_

_Is this what you want?_

_”Dean, I’ve been looking for you!”_

_I was hoping that you’d find me._

_”What’s wrong?”_

_Everything’s wrong. I don’t know what’s going on with me._

_”Did something happen?”_

_I can’t be friends with you, because I’m rich and you’re poor._

_”Why won’t you look at me?”_

_I want to, so badly, but they’re watching._

Angel whimpers quietly, sensing his distress. He lifts his hands to look at them, marveling at how it’s possible for them to shake so badly and how he can’t make it stop. The marvel turns to nausea and he makes a run for the bathroom, making sure to lock the door behind him before he allows himself to kneel in front of the toilet to heave up the small lunch he’d had today. His stomach is empty, he can feel it, but his body keeps convulsing in on itself, convinced that there is something bad inside him that’s causing him to feel this way. He’s a sobbing mess again as he peels his clothes off, all of them, off, and sits on the floor of the bathtub. The razor is already out, where he left it after his morning shave, and he brings it down hard, slicing deeper than he’d meant to and he has to bite his knuckles to keep from yelling out in pain. 

Four symmetrical red lines form on his right bicep, and in fascination he places a thumb next to them, pulling at the skin and watching the flesh part. It’s enough for him to throw up again, into the bathtub this time, but all that comes out is a bit of mucus. He leans forwards, letting his head rest between his knees as the razor falls from his hand with an ominous ka-klink.

Blood drips onto the white porcelain underneath him,perfect little ovals that grow into a small puddle, slowly forming a river-like trail that makes its way towards the drain. He watches it in fascination, the red so unnatural and wrong, but it helps him focus on something other than the havoc of his mind. 

He takes a shower, water cleansing sweat, tears, bile and blood from his skin. The current numbness is better than the overload of before. He feels…the pulse of his heart in his arm. The cold water creating goosebumps wherever it touches. 

The towel dragging painfully across his skin as he dries off. The bandage applying pressure to the too deep wound. 

He’s alright, for now. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty much everything that happens: Dean thinks about how he doesn't enjoy being the popular kid in school anymore, and his friends (Crowley, Abaddon, Gordon, Naomi) wonder why he's so quiet and pensive. Abaddon and Dean have sex so that he can 'let off some steam', which only makes Dean feel numb. He skips his last class and sits in the impala, where Cas finds him and joins him for a talk. Dean remembers how much he hurt Cas, but he doesn't apologize or bring the subject up. He also stays clear of talking about the kiss at school the other day. Cas brings up graduation, and Dean sort of looses it because Cas still considers him to be a friend, and he breaks down crying in his arms. When Cas asks him to talk to him, Dean tells him to leave the car (but he's nice about it). Sam and Dean talk about Sam, Sams' track and field practice, and Jess. They go home and are greeted by their three dogs, Bones and Tails that are pretty much Sam's and Angel that is pretty much Dean's. Dean and Angel go up to his room, where Dean spirals into dark thoughts and self-harms to push them away.


	4. Standing in front of you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helloooo, I'm back, and I will now update as much as I possibly can! 
> 
> No trigger warnings, be prepared for a happy chapter with a happy Cas :')

Castiel is worried. 

He’s worried because he kissed Dean Winchester.

_The_ Dean Winchester. Dean frickin’ Winchester. The most popular kid in school. Handsome, funny and loud. Dean Winchester.

He has to say the name over and over to realize the full extent of what he’s done. 

He kissed Dean Winchester, who Castiel is pretty sure is the straightest man in the history of straight men. 

To be fair, Dean hadn’t exactly tried to push him away or stop him, but that could very well be because of the shock of being kissed. Castiel tries to remember Dean’s expression after they’d parted, if it was upset or just blank, but all he can see is a goofy grin that his brain has conjured up. 

Because _Dean frickin’ Winchester_ is rich and cool and he can’t be friends with a poor and dorky guy like Castiel. He especially can’t kiss a guy like Castiel.

He can’t kiss a guy, period. 

”You’re brain looks like it’s about to explode, Cas. Tell me what’s wrong,” Charlie says as a greeting as she abruptly puts her food tray down on the opposite side of the table from Castiel. He only groans and buries his face in his arms on the table. When his friend doesn’t immediately pursue him for an answer he slowly raises his head, met by two kind eyes. 

”What happened?”

”I kissed Dean,” he breathes, and he can’t believe that he just said those words out loud but now it’s kind of too late to take them back. Especially as Charlie’s eyes widen almost comically. 

”Excuse me, what? You frickin’ kissed Mr. Hot-pants and you’re only telling me now? What the hell, dude!” 

”I don’t know what to do.”

He hates saying it, but it’s the truth. What is he going to do? His mind had been quite cooperative for a while now, not bringing up Dean Winchester and green eyes in quite a long time, but that all changed after the kiss. 

_Oh,_ the kiss. Nothing more than their lips pressed against each other, breathing the same air for a few moments before Dean pulled away. 

”Eh, well…” Charlie starts, but her voice kind of drifts off and Castiel realizes something that makes him smile, despite how he’s feeling at the moment.

”You’re speechless. Charlie Bradbury, at a loss for words.”  
”Shut it, Novak, I’m just trying not to sound too mean.” 

”Oh, please don’t-”

”BECAUSE, and let me just say this, Dean was a bit of an ass. Like, Captain Asshole. He straight out ignored you when we got back for seventh grade.”

”That was years ago-”

”Then tell me that it doesn’t still hurt, and I swear to god I will leave it alone. But Cas, you and I both know that he broke your heart.”

”We were thirteen. It was just a childish thing, nothing to take too seriously.”

”Cas-”

”What do you want, Charlie? Do you want me to cry and admit that Dean hurt my feelings? _Fine_ , he did. He hurt me. But I got through it, and I forgave him.” 

Charlie holds her hands up in a surrendering gesture and returns to her lunch. ”So, you kissed him?” she says after a while, and Castiel groans loudly. 

”Oh my _god_ , I kissed him.” 

”Did he punch you?” she laughs, more at his expression than anything else, and flicks a piece of cucumber in his direction. He catches it in his mouth and chews down on it, hard. 

”No,” he grumbles.

”Then you’re good. My limited experience with guys tells me that as long as they don’t punch you, they’re not really upset.” She tosses another piece of vegetable towards his mouth but this time he misses it. 

”You owe me a dollar!” she whoops, and holds out her hand. Castiel shoves his hand down the pockets of his jeans and searches for anything even remotely close to money, Charlie’s expression growing impatient. If he doesn’t come up with the dollar, she’ll be queen for an entire week and then he’ll have to carry her stuff, help out with her homework, drive her wherever she wants to go, and-

”Aha!” he exclaims, extracting a golden coin with the statue of liberty casting quiet glances at him, and he places it in her hand. ”There you go, your majesty,” he deadpans, but Charlie’s laugh is all worth it. 

”Damn it,” she says with an eye-roll and a grin. Even if she didn’t succeed in becoming queen, she succeeded in one thing:

She cheered him up. 

He’s so goddamn happy to have her as a friend that when he picks up Anna after school, she eyes him suspiciously. 

”Why are you happy?” she asks as if she can’t quite recognize him with a smile on his face, and he reaches out to tousle her hair. 

”Come on, aren’t I always happy?”

”I can’t answer that without hurting your feelings,” she mumbles, and Castiel feels his smile falter slightly. He hasn’t exactly been a great older brother, far too busy with schoolwork and his own brooding mind to pay much attention to her. Now that she’s sitting next to him looking out the window with a faraway expression, he decides that he is going to take the afternoon off and just hang out with her. 

He owes her that much. 

”Anna,” he says softly, beckoning her to meet his gaze. ”What do you say to ice cream and the swing by the lake?” Her face perks up, but she still seems adamant to put up a little bit of a fight.

”Don’t you have homework?”

”I can do it tomorrow.”

”Then shouldn’t you hang out with Charlie? You haven’t had her over in a long-”

”Anna, I don’t want to hang out with Charlie today. I want to be with you.” 

”For real?”

”Of course,” he promises, and her ears turn slightly red as she looks down.

”I’m too old for the swing,” she mutters, but it’s enough for Castiel to start the engine of the car, relieved when it doesn’t make any obscure noises. He wouldn’t even be surprised if it started yelling curses at him any day now.

”I’m older than you and I’m going. Are you going to sulk in the car or are you going to come with me?”

Her smile says it all. 

They stop at Gabriel’s café on the way, buying an ice cream cone each (because apparently Gabriel thinks that it’s worth selling ice cream even in the middle of the winter, not that Castiel is complaining) before going to the lake. Castiel parks the car at the parking lot that’s abandoned for the season, and together they walk down the path to the water, where they know that there’s a large basket swing waiting just for the two of them. 

Castiel’s mint chocolate chip ice cream is delicious, even though it makes his lips twinge from the cold and pain shoot through his teeth. Anna seems to have no such problems, however, as she devours her strawberry ice cream and gets into the swing, laying on her back immediately while Castiel hands her his cone as well. He grabs the edge of the swing to get it moving, and jumps up gracefully, having done it a million times before. 

Anna gives him his cone back and they lay there, side by side as they swing softly back and forth. 

”I spy, with my little eye, something green,” Castiel says, and he can almost hear Anna grin as he reminds her of the game they always used to play when they went to the basket swing in the summers. Ice cream and the swing was their thing, their tradition, and Castiel berates himself for not having done it in a long time. 

”The grass?” Anna tries, and Castiel makes a negating sound. ”The trees?”

”It’s winter, silly, they’re not green now.”

”Alright, alright. Your car?”

”Can’t see it from here, can we?”

She groans in frustration and looks over at him, gaze flickering from his head to his toes. When she realizes that he’s not wearing any green she puts her head back down with a pout. 

”Come on, don’t give up,” Castiel grins, and nudges her arm with his. 

”Give me a clue.”

He considers her request, and adds, ”It’s green with little red polka dots.”

Anna immediately perks upp and exclaims, ”My socks! It’s my socks!” 

”Yes it is, your turn,” Castiel says with a laugh, pleased when Anna settles back down beside him. 

”I spy, with my little eye…”

They keep at it for a while, until their fingers are blue from the cold and they’re both shivering. Castiel let’s Anna ride piggyback back to the car, and he wheezes once they’ve reached it. 

”Man, you’re heavy,” he groans, and fake-stumbles, leaning forwards as much as he dares to while she squeals in his ear from fear of falling head-first into the ground.  
”Don’t drop me!” 

”I’m not going to drop you.”

”Please, don’t let me fall.”

”I’m not going to let you fall,” Castiel reassures her, and when he straightens up she starts laughing, which sets him off as well. 

”Again, again!” she giggles, but instead he lets her slip down to land on her feet. 

”My back’s killing me, but another time.”

”Promise?”

”I promise. Now go on, get in the car before we freeze to death.” 

 

It’s dark by the time they get back home, and Castiel suddenly remembers that he hasn’t told his parents where they were or that they’d be home late. When they enter the house, however, they are met by the delicious smell of someone baking ginger bread cookies, and Anna disappears before she can hang her coat up. Castiel does it for her with a smile, and trails her into the kitchen.

”I was wondering when you two would decide to show up! Dinner’s done in a few, for now, you’ll have to make do with christmas cookies,” his father says, plucking Anna up from the floor and enticing a laugh from her. 

”I’m sorry, we went to the lake and I lost track of time. I should have called-” Castiel tries, but is quickly interrupted.

”Don’t worry, son. I knew you’d call me if you needed me.” They exchange a quiet glance that is broken when Castiel’s mother appears, glasses perched up in her hair and she gives Chuck a quick kiss before snatching a cookie from the baking tray. Castiel watches them, in silence, a bit disappointed as Anna’s attention immediately shifts to their parents. He drifts off, unnoticed, and decides to hide out in his room until they call him for dinner. 

They love him, he knows that, but love can only do so much. It can’t make him agree with his father’s religious beliefs, or his mother’s obsession with famous actors that she’s never even talked to. 

Sometimes he feels like they don’t know him at all. He’s never told them that he’s gay. Or that he wants to move to San Francisco to go to college next fall. 

As soon as the thought that they don’t know him leaves his brain, he wants to take it back. He’s never told them anything, really. And he wants to blame himself for it, but he also knows that they’ve never asked him. Not after Castiel stormed out of the living room and locked himself into his bedroom after Becky had once asked why Dean never came over anymore. 

They’re his family, but right now all he wants to do is get a fresh start. Move somewhere else. Get his life in order. He wants to live with someone who knows who he really is, and who accepts him for it. 

Good god, he’s a mess. 

–

The following days, Castiel doesn’t see much of Dean. He spots familiar brown hair and hears his voice in the corridors at school, but they don’t come closer than that. Whether he is pleased or in agony, he doesn’t know. Charlie dedicates a lot of her spare time on him, much to Dorothy’s disdain, but she’s being gracious about it. 

They go to the movies together Friday night, and same as last time, Dorothy and Charlie end up paying more attention to each other than the big screen. This time, however, Castiel stays in his seat. The movie playing is Star Trek, and he feels like Charlie had an ulterior move when she decided that they were going to watch it - Castiel can at least look out for any hand signals or word phrases that she might have said, and he’s pleased as he recognizes the one she usually uses when saying goodbye. Pinkie and third finger pressed together, held apart from index and middle finger in a salute. While showing it, the black-haired guy says ’live long and prosper’, and Castiel makes sure to remember it for future use. 

After the movie, Castiel drives the girls home. He tries to come up with something, anything to do that can postpone his return home for a little while longer, but his mind is blank and before long the car is parked on the road outside their little house. He doesn’t want to go inside, but even as he thinks that, his feet lead him to the front door. It’s late enough for the house to be quiet, and he softly tip-toes to his bedroom to avoid waking anyone. 

That night, he finds himself falling asleep with the image of bright green eyes and freckles on his eyelids. 

–

As he wakes up the following morning, he realizes that he should not have thought of Dean before going to sleep. However, the green eyes had just slipped into his mind and now the lower regions of his body is reminding him of it. With a groan he covers his face in his hands. He’ll wait it out, because it’s not like this is the first time he’s woken up with morning wood.

The minutes tick by, and he finds it impossible to not think about Dean just a little bit, the way his lips had felt against Castiel’s, and before he knows it his hand is wrapped around his shaft and he’s thrusting up into it. Yearning for more friction, he turns around and the way his cock is now trapped between the mattress and his stomach is absolutely remarkable. His boxers slide back and forth over his sensitive skin as he humps the mattress shamelessly. 

But he needs more, oh, so much more, and without a single coherent thought in his mind he reaches behind himself and presses the pad of his thumb against his fluttering hole. The pressure is delicious, and he increases it, until his thumb slips inside and he can start massaging the inside of his walls with it. 

He breathes out heavily, forehead pressed against the mattress and hips stuttering below him. Once he’s grown used to his thumb he pulls it out but quickly inserts his index finger, reaching deeper, and woah-

He groans loudly and tries to hide the sound by smothering his face in the pillow. His first finger is joined by a second, and shortly a third, and it’s frustrating that he can’t go deeper, can’t reach that spot again because the angle is all wrong and his arm is starting to hurt as his muscles protest. By now he needs to come _really, really bad_ , so he settles for giving more attention to his abandoned cock instead. With one finger still inside, reaching for the sweetest of all spots, he eases his other hand underneath his boxers and creates a tunnel that he can thrust into. 

He can feel his cock swelling, he can feel the impending orgasm, and just as it reaches its crescendo he arches his back enough to reach his prostate and he comes hard in his boxers. 

Once he has regained his breath slightly, he climbs out of bed and stalks to the bathroom down the hall, grabbing a pair of clean underwear on the way. 

If his mind had been on Dean throughout his morning masturbation, no one can really blame him, right? 

Right. 

–

His pretty-good-morning turns even better as Gabriel has made pancakes for breakfast, and offers to give him a ride into town if he wants to. Castiel has no real plans for the day, and decides to join his brother. Christmas is looming just around the corner, and he has gifts to buy. 

Gabriel is his usually chatty self on the way into town, and the ten-minute ride feels a lot shorter as his brother actually makes Castiel laugh a few times. They part ways at the parking lot, Gabriel promising to call before going home (”Remember that time you forgot that I needed a ride home as well, Gabe?” ”Oh, come on, you could have taken the bus.”). 

Castiel sends a text to Charlie, asking if she wants to join him for lunch, and pockets his phone again as he makes his way to the shopping center. He has a few ideas for gifts, and plans to check them out so that he can finish his christmas shopping in good time for once. 

Charlie replies with a sad selfie, explaining that she’s already gone to Dorothy’s stepdad for some christmas baking. Castiel wishes her a good time and considers calling Gabriel when he sees a familiar profile a few yards away. 

The comic book shop that Castiel is in is cramped with all the things any fangirl or fanboy could dream of, and the only reason he is in here at all is to find a gift for Charlie. She’d been going on and on about a new lightsaber that looked ”totally real, Cas”, and he hoped that no one else would buy it for her. 

In the shop, Dean is scouring the shelves for something, or nothing, and he is gradually coming closer to the spot where Castiel has apparently gotten stuck. He shakes his shoulders to ease the tension out of them, and considers whether to turn on his heels and run out of there or hope that Dean doesn’t see him, or maybe hope that Dean _does_ see him. That maybe they could-

”Cas?” a low voice calls, and a startled Castiel realizes that he’s holding Dean’s gaze. He blinks hard a few times and forces a smile. 

”Hello, Dean,” he replies, and curse his dick for making him think about that morning. A blush spreads on his cheeks and he can only hope that Dean thinks it’s because of the cold outside. 

”Since when are you a comic fan?”

Right, comic book store, added to Castiel’s lack of knowledge regarding the entire world of comics, must look a bit strange. Castiel barely takes note of the fact that Dean remembers enough about him to wonder what he’s doing in there. 

”I’m picking up a gift for a friend,” he stutters, holding up the lightsaber that he located a full minute before spotting Dean. 

”Your friend must have one hell of a wish list, if that’s on it,” Dean grins, clearly impressed. 

”It’s Charlie Bradbury,” Castiel blurts, wondering if Dean even knows who she is. His expression gives away that he does, but he doesn’t seem to be all that pleased to hear her name. 

”Charlie? Yea high, red hair, never stops talking?” he asks, holding out a hand at shoulder height. Castiel nods and he can swear that Dean looks a bit bashful.

”Do you know her?”

”No, not at all. She just-” He pauses to take a deep breath before finishing the sentence, and when he does, Castiel understands why. ”She was Crowley’s favorite to pick on a few years back. Can’t say I tried to stop him, either. There are just so many kids that he’s been mean to, sometimes I don’t have the energy to try to get him to back off. He’s a piece of work, that fucking Brit.”

”Dean,” Castiel says softly, needing him to listen to this. When their eyes meet again Dean looks uncertain, almost frightened. But the look is gone so quickly that Castiel wonders if he made it up. 

”You can’t save everyone, my friend. And Charlie is doing good, no permanent scars there.”

”D’you want to grab a bite to eat?” Dean blurts suddenly, clearly dying to change the subject and Castiel doesn’t have the heart to linger on it any longer. He just nods, and Dean follows him to the cashier to pay for the lightsaber before they leave the comic book store and head to the nearest restaurant. Dean is silent all the way, words only slipping out as he orders a grill sandwich and a coffee, Castiel settling for a salad and coffee. They sit at a table by the windows, Castiel watching in fascination as the snow attacks the glass panes in silent bursts. 

It’s only when their food arrives that he looks back at Dean, meeting his eyes instantly. 

”So I’m sorry,” Dean says, one hand around his left bicep and the other slowly lifting the coffee to his lips to take a sip. 

”Why are you sorry?” Castiel retorts, and a frown settles on Dean’s face. Castiel wishes that he could reach over to smooth it out, but he can’t. 

”I’ve been a bit confused lately, and I broke down in front of you and you shouldn’t have had to see that.”

_I don’t need you_. He’s not saying it, but Castiel knows that he’s thinking it. And it leaves a lump in his throat that makes it difficult to swallow the piece of salad that he just put in his mouth. He chews it frantically, long enough for it to turn into a soggy mess and Dean has gone quiet again. The coffee cup is bouncing up and down from Dean’s mouth to the table, and Castiel notices that he hasn’t even touched his sandwich yet. 

”Why?” he asks, and Dean is the picture of confusion. 

”Why what?”

”Why didn’t you want me to see it?”

”Because, I don’t know, it was weird? The mother of all chick-flick moments, totally pathetic.”  
” _Dean_ ,” Castiel grumbles, he can’t help it, and Dean tenses for a second before relaxing again.

”I didn’t want you to see me like that. And it would be cool if you don’t run around the school telling everyone how Dean Winchester was crying like a baby while you were hugging him,” Dean snaps, and now Castiel is the one who tenses. He can see a bit of regret flashing through Dean’s eyes, but the guy refuses to look at him and Castiel knows that he’s just waiting for him to leave. 

Dean may be stubborn, but so is Castiel. He diverts all his attention to his sallad, devouring it in no time at all and as soon as his cup is empty he leaves the table for a refill, taking Dean’s as well. Once he returns, he sits down quietly and opts to look out the window again as he waits Dean out. He’s uncertain if it’s going to work, but at least Dean is not running away and for now he’s content to wait. 

The snowfall has changed from brutal to soft, the flakes patting the window as if asking for forgiveness for the earlier treatment, even though the glass can’t tell the difference between rough and gentle. On the street outside, people walk by in a rush, hoodies drawn over their heads to cover them from the worst of the weather and Castiel is thinking about making snow angels with Anna later. Maybe Gabriel will join them too, his brother has always been the more playful one. 

”Why did you kiss me?” Dean asks eventually, and it’s so soft that Castiel can barely believe the words are coming from the same man. His voice is honey and whiskey, and it’s like the sea: soft and brutal, pulling harshly at him and then smoothing him out like he’s made of sand.

His words come back to Castiel now, and his eyes land on Dean’s lips. Pink and full, slightly parted. _Beautiful_. The word comes to him without effort. 

”It was quite as much of a surprise for me as it was for you, I can assure you. Doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy it.” 

”You enjoyed it? Me standing still as a corpse? Dude, have you heard of necrophilia?”

”Dean Winchester, you take that back right now!” Castiel exclaims, blushing furiously. Only Dean would joke about their awkward kiss, and it makes Castiel feel a bit better even though it’s completely embarrassing. 

”What? I don’t judge,” Dean retorts, raising his hands in a placating gesture. Castiel feels the frown growing on his face as he roughly grabs his coffee cup. 

”You are quite frustrating,” he says, and the tips of his ears heat up as Dean chuckles heartily. 

”I’m adorable.” Cas looks up to see pursed lips and crossed eyes and he can’t help it, he smiles. 

”Extremely,” he agrees, happy to see the blush staining Dean’s neck for once. Silence hits them again, but smoother this time, enveloping them in comfort instead of smothering them. Castiel takes his time to absorb everything about the man in front of him, everything from his sharp jaw to his soft eyes and the way his tongue occasionally darts out to wet his lips. Castiel feels himself copying the gesture without knowing why. 

”So, are you going home any time soon? Sam’s at a friend’s house and I promised to pick him up in the afternoon, so I don’t really feel like going back home just to turn around again at the front door.”

”I actually have a few gifts left, if you want to join me.”

”Christmas shopping? Best thing I know,” Dean says sarcastically and Castiel actually picks up on it, although he doesn’t show it. 

”Good. Should we-” He stops talking as Dean stands up, noticing that his sandwich still sits untouched on his plate. Their eyes meet but Dean shrugs it off effortlessly.

”Not that hungry. I had a big breakfast,” he says with a smile, and Castiel can’t do anything but grab his coat and follow him out of the café. 

 

The afternoon is marvelous, reminding Castiel that Dean and him share the same obscure sense of humor that has them laughing over just about everything they lay their hands on, and they both go out of their way to locate stranger and stranger things to show the other. Inside Pottery Barn they stay long enough for a salesman to come up to them on three different occasions, asking if they need any help, which just sends them off in another laughing fit. Dean holds up a spatula that looks like a giraffe, and Cas retorts by showing him a moose-shaped cheese-cutter that Dean desperately wants to buy for Sam. A frying pan is enough for tears to flow from their eyes, and when Dean seductively brings out a pair of extremely christmassy oven gloves Castiel has to turn away from him to actually breathe. 

They have fun, and Castiel doesn’t find any of the gifts that he intended to but he really couldn’t care less. 

This. This right here is so much more important than neatly wrapped gifts and expensive presents. 

By the time Sam calls Dean to be picked up, Castiel’s cheeks are aching from smiling so much and still he wants more. They exit the little bookstore they’d spent the last half hour or so in and if Dean’s expression is anything to go by, he’s just as thoroughly content as Castiel. 

”Got to go, Sammy’s orders,” he grins, and Castiel keeps the sadness out of his face. Was this a one-time thing? Something that they could only do on the weekend, away from everyone at school?

Would Dean resent him again if he tried talking to him in class?

”So, um, Cas?” Dean asks, and again he’s rambling and Castiel doesn’t quite know what to make of that. He cocks an eyebrow to show that he’s listening, and Dean continues. ”I’m going away for the holidays, to Bobby and Ellen’s - you remember them, right? - so I was wondering if I could get your number? Y’know, so we can keep in touch? Make fun of each other’s families?”

”I’d like that,” Castiel smiles, and pulls out his phone, swapping it for the one that Dean is handing to him. It’s well-used and there’s a crack on the screen, and Castiel hides a smile as he sees that the wallpaper is a picture of Sam on a field with fireworks going off above him. He opens the contacts and adds a new one, naming it ’Castiel Novak’ and quickly types out his number.

Later, when they have gone their separate ways and Castiel is on his way home again beside Gabriel, he opens his contacts list to see if Dean really entered his number or was just making fun of him. 

It simply says ’Dean’, no surname, nothing else. Cas’ heart does a strange little flutter and he quickly locks his phone as Gabriel asks what he’s smiling about. 


	5. I hide behind my mouth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was so tired when I wrote this. Like, seriously, it was 9pm but I’d been up since 5:30 that morning, and my eyes were all over the place and I don’t remember writing half of this stuff. When I went back to proof-read I found this:  
> ”He wants us to know that not everything can be bought with a wallet full of food”  
> And I was like….  
> ?????  
> What????  
> Does this mean????  
> Wallet full of food????  
> Is this some weird metaphor????  
> Was I asleep when I wrote this?????
> 
>  
> 
> Warnings:  
> Dean unconsciously opens up some of his wounds on more than one occasion, and there's a bit of blood.  
> Non-con sex and choking.

”Uh, Dean?” Sam asks after they’re both settled in the car and have left the neighborhood where Sam’s friend Kevin lives. Dean looks over at his brother and frowns at his confused expression. 

”What, little brother?”

”Has something happened?” Sam is fidgeting, he can see it from the corner of his eye, but he doesn’t seem to be upset. Not like that morning a few weeks back when he had found Dean passed out in the bathroom in a puddle of his own vomit. 

”Nothing’s happened, can’t a guy sing along to the radio in peace?” Dean tries for a joke, already reaching to turn up the volume when Sam chimes in,

”That’s just it, Dean. The _radio_. Since when do you ever listen to the radio?”

”I do, on occasion.”

”You really don’t. And, ugh, they’re playing _Taylor Swift_.”

”Shut up, you know you like it,” Dean bites back, turning the volume up. 

”Jerk,” Sam mutters.

”Bitch,” Dean replies happily, and they laugh. 

Back home, Dean clips a leash onto Angel’s collar and calls to Sam to let him know that he’s going out on a walk. Angel follows him closely and the leash hangs slack between them, not really necessary but Dean has been told off more than once for letting his dog go free. 

They head down to the lake, and the ice reminds Dean that it’s winter. That the sun beating down on him is not warm enough to bring spring and summer just yet. After making sure that they are alone on the beach, Dean unclips Angel’s leash and picks up a branch that he throws as far as he can, watching the dog stretch out as she chases it. They repeat the motion a few times before Angel starts to sniff around in the bushes, showing that she’s had enough of Dean’s games. He shivers involuntarily in his coat and smiles as Angel bites at a frozen flower. 

”What are you doing?” he chuckles, his eyes met by two chocolate brown ones. She spits the flower out and walks up to him, licking his hand. Dean scruffs her fur for a bit before turning back home. She follows him happily, forever walking beside him. 

They go inside, leaving the cold behind them with a slam of the door, and Dean takes a few moments to dry Angel’s wet legs and paws before letting her head into the house. He shrugs out of his winter coat and follows her into the kitchen, where he finds his parents unpacking groceries. 

”Hey, darling, Sam said you were out. Did you have a nice walk?” his mother asks, and Dean gives her a shrug.

”’s alright, I went to the lake for a bit. Angel ate a flower.”

”What?” his dad chimes in, confused, but Dean only rolls his eyes. 

”Never mind. What’s for dinner?”

”If you’re so concerned with what’s for dinner, maybe you should-”

”Chicken casserole and mashed potatoes, and we’re happy making it if you have other things on your hands,” his mom interrupts John, and the older Winchester looks down with a scowl. Dean knows better than to take his dad’s comments too seriously, however, and he grabs an apple from the bag that lies half-open on the countertop. 

”I’m going to go get some homework done. Call me if you need any help,” Dean says, finishing the sentence even as he’s walking out of the kitchen. He only hears bits and pieces of his parents conversation as he walks up the stairs. 

”…no respect…” 

”…teenager, give him space…the best he can…”

”…no son of mine…”

”…JOHN!”

That last part was heard pretty well even through the thick walls of their house, and Dean smiles to himself as he enters his room. If his parents weren’t fighting then something would be seriously wrong with them.

Angel is already sleeping on his bed, and he joins her, body exhausted for no particular reason other than keeping him alive. He unconsciously presses a finger against one of the wounds on his left bicep and shudders as it sends a ripple of pain through him. As he shuffles to get a better reach, Angel moans and starts licking his hand, somehow knowing what he’s doing, or at least that she wants him to stop. He is effectively pulled away from the habit and lets his hands work through her fur instead, finding every little tangle of hairs and straightening them out. 

He’s in an unusually peaceful place, and he allows himself to think back on his day with Cas. Laughing so much that he can still feel it in his abs. Remembering what it was like to have a friend who just wanted to do silly things with him. Cas was good, he seemed happy and just as dorky as he’d always been, and-

Angel nips, hard, at his fingers and he is ready to angrily push her away when he notices that the sleeves of his t-shirt have gone damp. He reaches to pull the left one up and Angel immediately nips at him again. To soothe her he puts his left hand on her head and winces as he frees his upper arm from the fabric and spots the patches of blood on the bandage that he’s wrapped around it. 

Frowning, he tries to figure out why the wounds would just start spontaneously bleeding when he’d been laying still as a stone in bed, but then he sees that his right thumb is red and he remembers pressing it into one of the wounds not long ago. 

Angel eyes him wearily and when he goes to the bathroom to get a new bandage she’s right behind him.

”I’m alright, girl,” he says fondly, still enjoying her company when she sits in the middle of the bathroom. He wonders how she can be more in tune with his feelings than he is himself, and decides that she must have some weird sixth-sense bullcrap. 

He doesn’t mind, though. Not when she is the only one who can comfort him without smothering him and touch him without sending waves of panic through his skin.

Without her, Dean isn’t so sure that he’d be alive right now. 

–

Saturday night, Dean is having a ”sleepover” at Gordon’s, which is their code word for throwing parties. Although Gordon’s parents are out of town and they have the entire place for themselves, it’s extremely cramped. Dean feels like wherever he goes there’s someone rutting against him or touching his arms, and with every turn he wants to throw up. 

Instead, he puts on the Winchester charm and gracefully flirts with everyone.

”Yeah, my dad’s John Winchester. We don’t get a big share of the fortune, however, he’s trying to teach us to make our own money. So I won’t be able to buy drinks for y’all tonight.” 

”Bummer,” one of them says, and a laughter spreads even if it wasn’t all that funny. 

The group dissipates, and soon enough Dean is looking around for another distraction.

What he finds, however, is a pretty drunk Abaddon, and Dean has drunk enough to not really care that she is not who he wants. They stumble into one of the bedrooms on the first floor, and she kisses him hungrily, lips nipping and biting at the skin around his neck. He urges her on with little gasps, and as she grabs the belt buckle and starts undoing his jeans, he’s trying to tell himself that he’s not going to sleep with her but then she mouths at his throbbing length through his boxers and every piece of restraint in him ebbs away. He’s drunk enough to do this, now. 

Without warning he yanks at her dress, the fabric moving easier as she squirms a little, and when he gets it up over her head he notices that she isn’t wearing a bra. All the blood in his body seems to rush to one and the same place, and he has to grab onto her shoulders to keep from toppling to the floor. 

Abaddon’s deft fingers move agonizingly slowly as she pushes his pants down to the floor, taking his boxers with them and letting his cock bob free. He exhales in relief and reaches down to stroke himself, but is stopped by a slap to his wrist. 

”Don’t touch yourself,” she growls, and he complies, even as she’s pushing him backwards onto the bed and he falls hard on his back, his cock bouncing up and down a few times and it _hurts_ with how much he needs to just-

”What did I tell you?” she leers, and he swallows hard. She’s gone for a few seconds before she returns to straddle his hips, now completely naked. He takes her in, her body deadly beautiful and her red hair seems to be on fire around her head. Then she leans down to kiss him, and his mind blanks out for a moment. The kiss is hard, urgent, and she bites at his lip hard enough to draw both blood and a surprised gasp. He can feel her chuckling more than hear it, and then her tongue is darting into his mouth and he tastes the alcohol in her mouth, knowing just how much it must have burned when she swallowed it down. 

The heat of the kiss is unimaginable, and it grows even more intense as Abaddon starts rocking her hips down against Dean’s crotch. He quickly mirrors her movements and thrusts up against her, making her gasp in surprise for the first time that night as her pace falters slightly. However, she quickly regains it, and straightens up on her knees to position herself over Dean’s cock. With a swift roll of her hips he’s inside her, wet and tight and the pressure is driving Dean insane. 

He’s close to coming already, having barely lasted a few minutes, but he does his best to drive her closer to the edge too when suddenly there’s an arm crushing his windpipe and he can’t breathe.

”No, don’t come yet. Wait for me, come after me,” she says quietly, shoving her arm harder against his throat even as she’s rolling her hips, impaling herself with every thrust. 

Dean has stopped moving altogether, mind acutely aware of the fact that something is blocking his breathing, but his erection doesn’t wane and Abaddon doesn’t stop. 

”Fuck me,” she whispers into his ear, pressing down harder when he lets out a fucking _whine_. ”Don’t be such a baby, Winchester, I said _fuck me_ ,” she rasps, and then she bites down hard on his right shoulder, but the sensation that spreads through Dean is not pleasurable pain. He likes it rough, he’s admitted that much to himself, but he doesn’t like being choked and bitten when he hasn’t asked for it. 

Speaking of being choked, he’s actually growing a bit dizzy now. His vision sort of starts darkening at the edges as he fights to keep his eyes open, and he gasps for oxygen even as Abaddon presses down harder and slaps his cheek to get him to focus.

”Fuck me!” she exclaims, and in a desperate attempt at trying to give her what she so clearly wants, he starts focusing on his hips again, on his cock, all his strength going towards thrusting his hips up into her tightness and he’s nauseous, brain blanking out at moments before she slaps him again to draw him back. 

Eventually she reaches her climax, and as she winds down from it she finally lets go of the death grip on Dean’s throat. The rush of air has him pushing her off him roughly, crawling in on himself as he makes it to the edge of the bed where his feet find the flat surface that is the floor, and he collapses, falling to his knees with a sickening crunch. Doubled over, he starts coughing and hacking, drawing deep gasps of air that sends him coughing more violently than ever before, and suddenly he’s throwing up and he doesn’t even know why anymore. 

When he comes to, the room is empty. Judging by the sound coming in through the crack in the door, the party is still going strong. 

Dean throws up again before he’s steady enough to stand on his feet, and he plasters on a big Winchester-smile to flash at anyone he meets so that he can leave the party.

It’s only when he’s out on the street, tipsy from the alcohol but definitely not drunk anymore, that the pain in his throat makes him stop abruptly. 

He throws up again, in some bushes belonging to one of Gordon’s neighbors, and he stands there for a while, hands on his knees and wondering what the hell just happened. 

 

The following morning, Dean wakes up to a hangover that has him running to the bathroom to throw up. He splashes cold water on his face to wake himself up, and after pulling on a pair of sweatpants he stumbles down the stairs to the kitchen where the rest of his family are making breakfast. 

After coming home last night, Dean had emptied every hidden bottle in his room, he’d even taken one from the liquor cabinet in the living room. 

He had drunk himself to sleep, and he makes sure not to think about the reasons for it.

As he enters the kitchen, mumbling a low ”’morning” to his family members, the conversation they’d had quickly dies out. The radio is turned on to the morning news, an unfamiliar voice filling the room. 

”What the hell happened to you?” John growls at last.

”John,” Mary sighs deeply, knowing all too well the affect John’s anger has on Dean. 

”What?” Dean asks obliviously. Sure, he’s hungover, but he’s not _that_ hungover and they’ve seen him in worse condition. 

”Dean,” Sam says softly, eyes frightened but still gentle, and when Sam raises a hand towards his own neck Dean’s mind immediately flashes back to the previous night. Of course there are bruises on his neck. Of _fucking course._ He’d refused to think of last night, and so he had not thought about the fact that Abaddon surely had left marks. 

But he can’t tell them. Not even his brother.

”I got in a fight, nothing to worry about,” he lies, and refuses to meet Mary’s eyes. 

”Dean, have you been drinking again?” she asks, and he rolls his eyes.

”I’m a teenager, mom, of course I’ve been drinking.” 

”I’m just saying, it’s not healthy. We’ve talked about this. And I don’t like you getting into fights and showing up with bruises to prove it.”

”It was just a fight. Jesus christ, give me a break.”

”That’s no way to speak to your mother,” John says harshly, and Dean has to leave. Now. Before he picks a fight with his father. 

He drops the cup that he hasn’t even filled with coffee yet in the sink and leaves the room without a word. His head is pounding and he needs to be alone, he needs to be someplace quiet and calm so he doesn’t hurt himself again because he’s so close to doing it. With the way he feels now, the memories of last night, Mary’s sad eyes and John’s angry ones trailing him, he’s surprised that he hasn’t given up yet. 

He slams the door to his room behind him and starts pacing the floor. One, two, three, four. Stop and turn, and repeat. 

One, two, three, four. 

Brusquely he opens the door his wardrobe to look at himself in the mirror that hangs on the inside. His reflection makes him nauseous. 

Bruises form a fine pattern around his neck, and in places he can even see where fingers have been pressed down. His eyes look hollow because of the deep purple circles under them, a mixture of bruising and simply not sleeping enough, and it’s too much and damn it, he _hates_ the person looking back at him, and he throws the door closed. 

A sudden, gentle knock interrupts his chaotic mind. 

”Dean? Can I come in?” Sam asks, voice quiet as if he’s aware of Dean’s banging headache. Dean mumbles something semi-decipherable that Sam somehow figures is a yes, because the door creaks open, not permanently harmed from the quite brutal treatment earlier on. 

”I brought you some coffee,” his little brother continues, and from where Dean is standing with his back against the door he can even smell it. Sam sets it down on the messy desk and makes to leave, but a low noise rumbles in Dean’s chest that convinces him to stay. With slouched shoulders Dean sits on the edge of the bed as Sam grabs the chair by the desk, handing him the coffee and a bowl of cereal. 

Dean is speechless. He takes the coffee and just lets it rest in his hands, the warmth spreading through his fingers, nearly burning him but he doesn’t mind. 

What in the world did he ever do to deserve a little brother like Sam?

”What’s going on with you?” Sam asks quietly, and Dean feels like crying. 

He’s been drowning himself in alcohol, slicing his arms into destruction, and he has such a hard time getting up from bed each morning _without_ killing himself first that he can barely hold it together anymore. 

He’s falling apart. 

”I just had a little too much to drink, nothing that hasn’t happened before. Crowley and me got in a fight at this party, some douchebags showed up,” Dean scoffs, taking a sip of coffee. Black and scalding, just the way he likes it.

”Yeah, right.” Sam sighs like he knows that that’s all he’s going to get for now. He takes a spoonful of Dean’s cereal and swirls a little on the chair. 

”I’m meeting Jess tonight,” his brother adds out of the blue, probably immediately regretting it when Dean’s face splits into a shit-eating grin. 

”Oh? Her place or is she coming here?”  
”Actually, I’m taking her to the movies.”

”Sammy, you sly dog,” Dean laughs, dragging another long hit of caffeine. ”What movie?”

”I told her that she could pick one.” 

”Good move, letting the chick choose.”

”She’s not a ’chick’, Dean.” 

”Shut up.” 

Sam smiles and exchanges the coffee-cup in Dean’s hand for the bowl of cereal. Dean accepts it with a frown. 

”’m not hungry,” he tries, and if Sam had laser eyes Dean would be fried right about now. 

”You didn’t eat any breakfast yesterday. And I’m guessing you didn’t have much for lunch? And you didn’t have dinner with us.”

”I had lunch with Cas,” Dean interrupts, because at the moment he actually prefers talking about Castiel than anything else that Sam seems to be all too focused on. 

”Cas? Like, _the_ Castiel? Seriously?”

”Yeah, uh, we sort of ran into each other at a comic shop, so we had lunch.” 

It’s a bit of a lie, especially since Dean didn’t even touch his grill sandwich, but it was still lunch. 

”Wow. I did not expect that.” 

”What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean bites back, annoyed at his brother’s tone. Sam is quick to placate him, however.

”I just didn’t think that you two were speaking anymore. You know, with what happened when we were in Italy.”

Dean feels like Sam has just bitch-slapped him after pushing him through a meat-grinder. He swallows hard and wraps his fingers around his left upper arm, because he _needs_ the pain now to ground him. Without it, he’s afraid that he’s going to jump his brother and beat him bloody. 

Instead he presses his thumbnail hard into a barely healed wound and doesn’t even flinch at the pain. 

”Don’t ever mention Italy again,” he says quietly, his voice menacing enough for Sam to look down ruefully. 

”I’m sorry.”

”Thanks for the coffee, kid. You should go to mom and dad, tell them that I’m going to sleep for a while longer.” 

Sam’s frown is so deep that his eyebrows are melted into one, but he doesn’t protest further. He leaves the cereal and coffee behind, and when he shuts the door he does so quietly. 

Dean turns in bed, presses his face against the pillow until he’s panicking because he can’t breathe. He wants to scream and curse at the world for making him feel this way. 

–

The next time Dean meets Castiel, it’s completely unexpected and such a surprise that Dean just stares at him dumbly - however, the guy does stare back, which makes it a little less awkward. 

”Cas-”

”Dean-” 

Cas’s expression is one of horror, and only then does Dean remember that his neck is painted in bruises. 

”Dean…” Cas repeats, slowly raising a hand towards the purple blotches as if he wants to touch them. Dean shies away a little from his fingers and actually takes a step back, needing to reclaim his personal space. 

They’re at the local primary school, where Sam studies and apparently Cas has some business as well. It’s Tuesday afternoon, three days since the ’incident’ with Abaddon and Dean’s bruises haven’t even started to fade. Going to school yesterday was the last thing Dean wanted to do, but he couldn’t feign being sick since his dad would just think that he was hungover again. Instead, he’d buckled up, driven to school and gone straight to the bathrooms to throw up before he could even begin to think about facing his friends. 

He didn’t own any shirts that would cover the bruising, and he _never_ wore scarfs so that would just be more conspicuous than showing them. In the end, the attention had only been on him for about five minutes, Crowley scowling, Abaddon grinning a feral grin, Gordon wondering who’d kicked his ass and Naomi as disinterested as usual. Abaddon didn’t say anything, and Dean made a point to avoid her at all costs. 

He hadn’t seen Cas at all on Monday, and he’d been too distracted during their shared classes on Tuesday to actually notice him. Now, however, they are standing only a few feet apart and Cas’s concerned face reminds him of the bruises once again. 

”I got in a fight, it’s nothing,” Dean explains, already turning away from him. 

”You always have bruises on your face when you’ve been fighting,” Cas says, and it’s so quiet that Dean doesn’t know if he is expecting a response or not. Before he can do more than open his mouth dumbly, Cas has taken a soft hold of his hands and runs a finger across his knuckles. ”And your knuckles are always swollen,” he adds. The fact that Cas just _knows_ these things about him makes his heart crumble just a bit. 

Dean melts into Cas’s touch, gentle in a way that makes him feel safe, but he forces himself to snap out of it. 

”Gonna need my hands back, Cas,” he grins, and almost regrets it when he sees pain in Cas’s eyes but at least he lets go.

”Sorry.” 

”No harm done.” Dean knows that he’s being a stoic asshole, that he should tell Cas what really happened, but the fact is that he’s afraid of what the blue-eyed boy would do if he knew the truth. If there’s one thing that Dean has learned, it is that bombarding your friends with your feelings will only make them leave. He has had more than enough experience with that, and he’s not going to go through it again. 

Lisa. 

Benny. 

Victor. 

All of them, leaving him the second he opened up. The friends he has now know nothing about him, because he’s made sure to never mention his feelings. He just tags along on whatever they want to do, because at least it’s better than being alone. 

”Dean?” Cas asks, and Dean realizes that he’s been talking. 

”Sorry, zoned off for a second there. What were you saying?” The concerned look is back on his face, and Dean desperately wants to wipe it off. He wants to bring out the same gum-splitting smile that refused to leave Cas’s lips when they were at the shopping mall that weekend. 

”I was asking what you’re doing here.”

”I’m picking up Sam, he goes to school here. You?”

”Anna goes here too, sixth grade. Sam is in eighth, right?”

”Right. Can’t believe you remembered that.”

”I know that he’s four years younger than us.” 

They fall quiet after that, Dean not quite knowing what to say. He wonders what Cas really thinks about him, because to be honest he’s been a complete asshole for the last couple of years and still Cas is talking to him. Smiling, even, as their eyes meet. And maybe Dean is selfish but he wants their friendship back, he wants it so much that he’s willing to try even though he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve anything good, not with the way he’s been acting, but he’s already a lost cause going to hell so he might as well make the most of it. 

And damn it, now he’s thinking too much again. He closes his eyes and forces a breath, hiding his shaking hands in the pockets of his jacket. 

Is he really going to do this? 

He opens his eyes to find blue ones staring back at him, and every piece of resistance in him is drained. 

”Hey, you need a ride home? I could drive you and Anna,” he suggests, and hides a smile as Cas tilts his head. 

”We were going to take the bus, our mother needed the car today.” 

”Oh no, you’re not. You can ride with us.” 

”If it’s not too much trouble-”

”You live on the way to my house. And no detours this time, I promise,” Dean winks, remembering with a blush the way he’d taken a longer route than necessary the last time Cas was in his car. Cas nods his consent, at last, and just then a door to a classroom is opened and children are streaming out into the corridor. Dean easily recognizes Cas’s little sister, the red hair standing out in the crowd as she makes her way towards them. When she sees Dean a little crinkle appears between her eyebrows, clearly a family trait. She is a bit too young to remember Dean clearly, but when Cas has introduced them there’s a flare of recognition in her eyes. Whether her memories of him are positive or negative, Dean can’t tell. 

They listen to her rambling on about her day, and when Sam joins them as well, his face the picture of confusion, they all head to the Impala. Cas and Anna get in the back, and Sam keeps sending Dean little glances all through the ride, but he doesn’t say anything to reveal his thoughts. 

”So, Castiel, how are you?” Sam asks. Dean makes sure that his eyes are glued to the road. 

”I’m good, thank you, Sam. I heard you were going to your uncle Bobby for Christmas?”

”Yeah, we haven’t seen him in months. Our cousin Jo and aunt Ellen are going to be there too.”

”I remember Jo… I think I met her once?”

”Probably when they were here for a visit during summer,” Dean chimes in, and Cas nods excitedly. 

”Yes! We went on a boat trip together, and she pushed you into the water.” Both Sam and Cas break out laughing at that, although Dean can’t really see why it’d be amusing. Jo still teases him about it whenever she gets the opportunity. 

”Alright, alright, very funny. How about that time she put hair-dye in your shampoo bottle, Sammy?” he adds, and now Sam is the one to roll his eyes. When Dean shoots a look in the rearview, Cas is the picture of confusion, so he explains: ”Sam’s hair was blue for three weeks. It was hilarious.” 

”Hilarious,” Sam sighs, and the soft chuckle from the back seat warms something inside of Dean. They continue chatting for a while, Dean feeling more peaceful than he has in a long, long time. His content grows even further when Sam’s cheeks suddenly turn beet red as Dean stops at a red light. 

”Oh my god,” he groans, eyes fixed on something outside of the car. Dean tries to follow his gaze but doesn’t see anything out of the ordinary, so he punches his brother’s shoulder lightly to get an explanation.

”What?”

”It’s Jess. Oh no, no, no, she’s coming this way, Dean you have to drive away right now!”

”It’s a red light, moron, I can’t go anywhere. Who is she?”

”The girl with the blond hair and dark red scarf, Dean I have to hide, please, what do I do?”

”Don’t worry,” Dean says soothingly, and because he is the best goddamn brother out there he rolls the window down, to Sam’s horror. 

”Jessica?” he calls, and a face turns in his direction. She’s gorgeous, Dean notices, and he immediately understands why Sam is all flustered. 

”Dean, no,” he whispers, but Dean locks him with a deadly serious gaze. 

”Tell me, do you like this girl?”

”Of course I do, she’s the most perfect-”

”Good. Here’s 20 bucks. Go buy her a coffee or a hot chocolate or something. Call me if you need a ride home.” He pulls out a 20 from his wallet and sticks it in Sam’s hand just as Jessica reaches the car.

”Hello?” she asks uncertainly, but her face lights up when she spots Sam. ”Hey, Sam!” 

”Hi-uh, hey, Jess,” Sam replies. 

”My brother was wondering if he could buy you some hot chocolate,” Dean says happily, grinning as he sees the smile that splits Jess’s face in two. 

”I’d love that.”

”You could try Gabe´s café, on Harley street. Tell him you’re a friend of Castiel’s and he’ll give you a discount,” Cas chimes in, and Dean shoots him a grateful look over his shoulder. 

”So, Sam, are we going?” Jess asks through the window. Dean has never seen someone get out of a car that quickly before. 

”Remember, call me if you need me Sammy,” Dean yells after them, and only gets a half-hearted wave in response. He laughs to himself and realizes that the lights have turned red again while they were talking. 

”That was entertaining,” Cas sighs happily, looking extremely comfortable from what Dean can see in the rearview mirror. He has one arm slung over the back of the seat, head turned sideways to look out the window in the direction Sam and Jess had disappeared. 

”Sammy’s always been a bit shy. Sometimes he just needs a push to get things going.” 

”Good thing he’s got you then.”

Dean doesn’t quite know how to reply to that. Instead, he does what he does best. He changes the subject. 

”So, we should probably get you two home now, huh? Enough adventure for one day?”

Cas just gives Dean an uninterpretable look in the mirror that Dean can’t question before the lights turn green and he reckons that maybe he should at least try to get through the intersection this time. 

 

They make it to Cas and Anna’s house, the route deeply imbedded in Dean’s mind. The dark blue house looks the same as it always has, with an unruly garden and a garage that’s so stuffed that their two cars can’t fit in there. 

Both cars are gone now, so there’s plenty of room for the Impala. Dean parks her right in front of the house and turns the engine off with a flick of his wrist. 

”Thank you for the ride,” Cas says as he and Anna get out. The red haired-girl disappears into the snow and Dean can hear the distant sound of a front door opening and closing. 

Cas has his feet on the ground, but he’s still seated and his torso is turned towards Dean, arms rested on the back of the front seat. 

”So…”

”Yeah,” Dean replies, turning his head to face the blue eyes. They are damn near irresistible. ”Hey, Cas?” he says before he can leave. Cas tilts his head slightly and gives him another puzzled look. ”D’you wanna grab a coffee?”

”I’d like that,” he smiles. 

Dean is left alone for no more than three minutes, while Cas goes inside to tell his father that he’s going out for a bit, and then they’re on their way. 

They pick a café downtown, where Dean buys coffee and a chocolate cake for the both of them and Cas picks a table by the windows. It’s one of the most normal yet strangest things that Dean has done in a long time, but he can’t help but enjoy himself. Castiel is a complete dork, utterly uneducated of anything regarding music or popular culture, which Dean finds extremely amusing. He takes some time to create a Spotify account for him, and adds some of his favorite songs. Cas seems flustered by the new icon on his very neat and organized iPhone, but Dean assures him that it’s worth it.

Cas decides to teach Dean something then in return, so he starts telling him about evolution and different species of animals, explaining theories and facts that has Dean’s head spinning. Most of the time he just watches Cas talk, admiring how fascinated he is by this subject. Once again he is reminded of the fact that they used to be the best of friends. That their brains are still synchronized and that they can still understand each other perfectly amazes Dean to the point where he wonders if this is even real. If Cas really is sitting in front of him, coffee cup in his hands and a little smudge of chocolate on the right corner of his lips. Dean’s hands are itching to reach out and wipe it away, but he’s afraid that Cas will disappear if he touches him. 

”I want to move to California,” Cas says out of the blue, and Dean is effectively snapped from his thoughts.

”What? Since when?”

”Since I’ve applied to a college in San Francisco. If I’m accepted, I’m starting there next fall.”

”That’s- that’s amazing, Cas,” Dean admits, in awe of his determination. He is suddenly acutely aware of the fact that he might not even be allowed to graduate come summer, and gingerly presses a thumb into one of the wounds on his bicep to stave off the negative thoughts that attack him. 

”Haven’t you applied to any colleges?”

”Me? God no, Cas, I’m not even sure I’m getting a high school diploma.”

”You could, you know. If you just started going to your classes.”

”Yeah, well that sounds exhausting. If I’m lucky, Bobby’s got a job for me in Lawrence this summer. He owns an auto shop, and I’ve always been good with cars.”

”Is that really all you want though? You could be anything, anything you want. And you’re choosing to stick with the family business?” Dean leans back a little in his seat, needing physical distance to bottle down his anger. This is the same discussion that he’s had with Sam about a thousand times, and they have all ended with Dean slamming a door into his brother’s face. He can’t do that to Cas though, not here and not now. 

”There’s nothing wrong with the family business,” he says quietly, feeling like a 5-year-old kid whose favorite toy was stolen. But Cas immediately tunes in on his mood and does his best to get him happy again. 

”That is not what I was trying to say. I just want you to understand that you are not obliged to become a mechanic just because that’s what your uncle is doing. He will not think any less of you if you choose to be a teacher, or a pilot, a fireman, anything. It’s your future, and you’re the one who’s going to live with your choices.” 

”And this is my choice. It’s what I want to do,” he says, even as he’s screaming at himself for lying. He loves cars, always has, but maybe he could do something else. Maybe…

Maybe that childhood dream of his, of wanting to be a policeman when he grew up, isn’t that far-fetched after all. Maybe if he just gets his act together and stops skipping classes each and every day, he could get accepted into the police academy. 

Maybe there’s one in California, so he could be close to Cas. Not that that should matter, though, but still it kind of does. 

Now that he thinks about it, being close to Cas suddenly seems like the most important thing of all. And suddenly he’s itching to finish high school _with_ him, so that they can continue living their lives together. 


	6. I'm out of my mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically Dean's having a rough time, anxiety attack, unconscious, hangover, Cas and Sam are a little worried... I'm gonna stop with the chapter summaries because I am a lazy teenager and I don't see why you'd like to read this anyways

Castiel is so gone on Dean Winchester that it’s not even funny anymore. Green eyes and a rough voice haunt him in his sleep, and every jerking-session is filled with thoughts of how wonderful it would feel with Dean’s hands on him, Dean inside him, Dean, Dean, Dean-

He’s going insane, he’s sure of it. 

But it’s more than just the physical attraction to Dean - because, let’s face it: the guy is _handsome_ \- it’s the strange bond that’s formed between them that allows Castiel to notice every little change in his expression, letting him see when he’s happy, content, peaceful, upset, and even the few times when there’s a storm brewing behind his careless mask. Castiel is afraid of the darkness he sees in Dean sometimes, because they can’t talk about it when Dean is so insistent on refusing to admit that it even exists. 

And now he’s gone. At least for the holidays. Since the very spontaneous coffee-date-but-not-quite-a-date, they have spent nearly every day together. Dean likes to sit next to Castiel during their shared lessons, which is such an extreme change in his personality that Castiel is shocked every time it happens. He doesn’t mind though. Not one bit. 

The last day of school finishes early, and since they don’t have any shared classes Castiel doesn’t see Dean at all that day. He was planning on wishing him a merry christmas, but settles on sending him a text on the day instead. 

Christmas day is spent in church and at home, eating way too much food and entertaining way too many relatives that Castiel wishes never to see again. A very popular topic seems to be why he doesn’t have a girlfriend yet. He nearly yells out that he’s gay when his uncle Zachariah starts going on about how he has to find a girl and be married before 25, or else the family will view him as a failure - but he manages a smile and quickly turns in the other direction. 

The holidays. Probably one of his least favorite things in the world.

He gets a ’merry xmas, Cas’ from Dean before he’s even sent one himself, and looks at it every time he’s being bullied into silence by his aunts and uncles and even his grandmother, whom he’s always considered to be a bit more down to earth than the rest of them. 

Five days after christmas, Charlie is bombarding him with text messages to try to convince him to go to a new year’s party with her and Dorothy, and he’s just considering turning the phone off for a while when someone’s calling. He doesn’t recognize the number, but answers anyways. 

”Castiel Novak.”

_”Hey, Cas, this is Sam Winchester.”_

”Sam? I didn’t know you had my number?” The line goes silent for a few seconds before Sam explains:

_”I looked it up. Did you know that you’re the only ’Castiel’ in Kansas?”_

”I did not, but then again, it’s not the most common name. How are you, Sam?”

_”I’m good. Good. Uh-”_ he pauses again, and Castiel can almost feel how nervous he is through the phone. 

”To what do I owe this pleasure?” he says, in an attempt to get him to speak his mind. 

_”I need to ask you a favor.”_

”Of course. How can I help?” 

_”This is gonna sound so weird… But could you go and check on Dean? He hasn’t been answering my texts in two days, and when I try to call him the line’s dead-”_

”I thought you were all in Sioux Falls at your uncle’s hunting cabin?”

_”Yeah, no, Dean got the stomach flu or something, so he stayed at home. And I’m sure he’s fine, he probably just forgot to charge his phone…”_

”…but you’d feel better if he stayed in touch. Got you.” Castiel smiles a little to himself with the thought of going to Dean’s house. He hasn’t been there in _ages._ But then Sam says something that makes the hairs on the back of his neck rise. 

_”Cas, I wouldn’t ask you to do this, but he trusts you. Dean trusts you, so I know he won’t be upset if you show up. Just…”_ He trails off again, and Castiel barely dares to breathe. _”Be prepared. He gets into these weird moods sometimes, and usually I can pull him out but now I’m not there. If you put on some Led Zeppelin he’ll come around.”_

”Sam,” Castiel manages at last. It’s just his name on an exhale, but it holds all the questions he doesn’t want to ask and Sam still understands somehow. 

_”Dean’s head is a dark place. If he gets stuck in there he won’t answer any calls, no matter who it’s from. Look, Cas, I’m probably overreacting, and he’s probably fine. And I know that you’re busy, but could you please just go to our house and kick his butt and tell him to call me back?”_

”Of course I will.”

_”Thank you. Thank you so much,”_ Sam sighs, and in that moment he sounds nothing like the fourteen-year old boy that he should be. 

Once they’ve ended the call, Cas shoots up out of bed. It’s late afternoon, and he’s been holed up in his room for the past few hours reading and doing some homework, but now he spurs into action. He puts on an old but comfortable pair of jeans, a semi-clean t-shirt and a sweatshirt, and just remembers to grab his phone before rushing down the stairs. His father looks up from the dinner table with a puzzled look as he heads to the front door and puts on his shoes. 

”Castiel? Where are you going?”

”To Dean’s,” he says before he can even consider lying to his father. His mind is too focused on other things. 

”Dean Winchester?”

”Yes.”

”Oh.”

”Yep.” He grabs his coat and yells out a goodbye and nearly slips on some ice just outside the door, but regains his footing. 

_Dean’s head is a dark place_. Sam’s words are spinning around his mind, and he can’t drive fast enough to the Winchester mansion. He doesn’t even need to think about where he’s going, the automatic parts of his brains are taking care of that. He just needs to get there, fast. 

The house is enormous. Castiel will probably never get used to it. He stops the car in front of the door and barely has time to turn it off before he’s knocking fiercely on the dark wood, wanting nothing more than for Dean to come and open it with a broad smile. 

When he’s spent several minutes out in the cold, he finally musters up enough courage to just walk in like he used to, and the sights that meet him inside just takes his breath away. 

The ceiling is high up, making the hallway light and airy and it leads to a large kitchen on the left and an even larger dining/living room to the right. Everything that Castiel sees is familiar sights that had been buried deeply in his mind, memories that he didn’t even know that he had anymore. The Lawrence Central Station clock on the wall. Mary and John’s wedding photo. Dean and Sam’s baby footprints. It’s all so overwhelming that for a moment he forgets why he’s here at all. 

But then Sam’s words return to him again. And then he’s running up the stairs to where he knows that Dean’s room is. 

The door is open, but the room behind it is empty. Castiel carefully checks the unmade king-sized bed, behind the door, even in the closet, but there’s no sight of Dean. He continues to the spare bedroom beside Dean’s, but finds it equally unoccupied. The remaining rooms, two storage rooms and a study, are both empty as well, and only then does Cas spot the closed door to the bathroom. He half-runs to it and finds that it’s locked. 

”Dean?” he calls out, but there’s no response. ”Dean?” he tries again, feeling how his voice breaks at the end. 

_He gets into these weird moods sometimes_.

Was this one of those? A ’mood’, as Sam had called it? Was Dean stubbornly refusing to answer?

No, Castiel is sure that he would at least call out to tell him that he’s alright even though they would both know that he wasn’t. 

Castiel bends down and checks the lock. It’s held together with two screws that don’t look too difficult to loosen, so he jogs to the first storage room to search for a screwdriver. There are old winter coats, shoes, picture frames and even a football, but nothing even remotely close to tools. In frustration he continues to the second room where he finds what he’s looking for at once. With a flat-headed screwdriver in hand he makes his way back to the bathroom door, which he immediately starts working on. 

Castiel might not be the most skillful guy when it comes to screwdrivers, but the lock is soon in pieces and he can pull back the little lever that holds the door locked. It clicks back into place and Castiel nearly kicks open the door. 

Every piece of resistance inside him that regretted picking apart the door crumbles when it’s opened and he can turn on the lights.

Dean is on the floor. Not in the shower, not sitting in a corner muttering strange words to himself, he’s spread out on the floor with his neck twisted painfully to one side, and Castiel can’t see his eyes but he just knows that they are closed.

He’s by his side in a second, checking his neck for a pulse and he holds his hand in front of his nose until he can feel an exhale. 

”Dean?” he says quietly, shaking his shoulder. But there’s no response. He takes hold underneath Dean’s right arm to turn him around until his torso is resting on Castiel’s knees, and after only a moment’s hesitation he slaps his cheek, hard. 

The reaction is immediate. Dean’s eyes open wide, but they’re unfocused and before Castiel can call for his attention he’s struggling against his grip. Castiel lets him turn until his hand hits the floor hard, and then he’s throwing up. 

There’s not a lot coming up, mostly fluids, but Dean’s body continues to convulse in a way that has to be painful. Castiel just strokes his hair and mumbles soft words, waiting for Dean to collapse back into his arms. When he finally does, Castiel is sure that he’s going to have bruises on his elbows with how hard they hit the floor.

”It’s okay,” he soothes, but he’s not so sure anymore. 

”The hell it is,” Dean growls, and just to hear his voice sets something loose inside of Castiel. He can feel tears burning behind his eyelids, and before he knows it they’re staining his cheeks. 

”Dean Winchester, don’t you ever scare me like that again.”

”Like what? This? Dude, I’m just drunk.”

”Why haven’t you replied to Sam’s phone calls? For how long have you been in here?”

”Dunno, for a while.” He blinks hard a few times and finally those green eyes lock onto Castiel’s. ”Huh.”

”What?”

”You’re crying.”

”I thought you were dead.” Dean frowns at that, and makes a motion as if to sit up but his body quickly brings him down again.

”Not yet I’m not. It’s gonna take a lot more booze before that happens.”

”I’d prefer it if it didn’t happen at all. At least not in the near future,” Castiel mutters, which entices a smile on Dean’s lips. They settle for gazing into each other’s eyes, the most intimate feeling Castiel has ever experienced, but he doesn’t ever want to stop. Everything surrounding them seems to fade away into nonexistence, bleak next to Dean’s brilliantly green eyes. Slowly, Dean reaches a hand up that he gently cards through Castiel’s hair, presumably to arrange it into some kind of order. 

”Kiss me?” he breathes, so softly that Castiel isn’t sure if he’s making it up or if Dean’s perfectly gorgeous lips just called for attention. 

”I thought I told you that I’m not a necrophile?” 

”Baby, I’ve never felt more alive than in this moment. Kiss me.” 

Castiel doesn’t know what he’s doing but suddenly he’s leaning down and he’s kissing the most beautiful boy he’s ever laid eyes on. 

 

With joined efforts they make it to Dean’s bed, where Dean passes out immediately. Castiel sits on the empty side of the bed and pulls out his phone, sending a reassuring text message to Sam to tell him that he had been right about Dean forgetting to charge his phone. Somehow Castiel knows that Dean will appreciate the lie. He sends a second text to his father, telling him that he’s sleeping over even though he doesn’t know if that’s what Dean wants yet. He could always come home and say that he changed his mind, however, so it feels like the right thing to do at the moment. 

Once he’s certain that no one will call the police on them if they don’t answer their phones, he turns the sound off on both his and Dean’s and lays down, making himself as comfortable as he can above the covers. It’s not nearly late enough for him to want to sleep yet, but there’s something very appealing about lying next to Dean in his quite enormous bed. He shuffles a little closer, just close enough to be able to count the freckles on his cheeks, when an arm is flung around his waist and the unconscious Dean pulls him impossibly close. Their foreheads are touching and Castiel is suddenly surrounded by everything that is _Dean Winchester_ : his smell, his breath, his dark golden hair. 

It completely overwhelms Castiel. He presses a kiss to Dean’s lips, because _how can he not?_ He was made to kiss those lips. Dean seems to think similar thoughts, because he’s humming softly and nips at Castiel’s lips, sweet little sounds erupting from his throat. 

They stay like that until it’s dark outside, until it’s late, until Castiel is drifting off to sleep all wrapped up in Dean. 

 

The next morning is all kinds of awkward. For starters, Castiel is in Dean’s bed. With Dean. 

More specifically, with Dean’s arms around his waist and Dean’s nose pressed up against his neck. 

That situation could have been one that they could have talked their way out of, if it hadn’t been for the hard shape that’s pressed against Castiel’s ass and the fact that Dean is lazily rocking his hips forwards.

It’s driving Castiel _crazy_. 

He has quite a massive boner as well, having slept next to Dean and all when just _thinking_ about him is usually enough to set him off. And the way Dean is rutting against him now is absolutely mind-blowing. 

At the same time that Castiel can feel his orgasm building, he’s trying to break away from the embrace. Because _Dean Winchester_ is not gay. Sure, they shared more than one kiss last night, and they’ve been sleeping next to each other all night, but that’s not the same thing as a morning jerk-off. Castiel wonders if Dean is still asleep, or still drunk, because he’s not responding to Castiel’s increasingly desperate calls. 

With an immense amount of willpower that Castiel didn’t know that he had, he pulls away completely and swings his legs to the floor to sit on the edge of the bed. When an arm is slung around his waist, he thinks that Dean is most definitely still drunk.

”Where you going?” he groans, voice tired but he speaks clearly. Castiel twists his head to see him, and he looks for a mocking expression but all he’s met by is an open, honest smile. 

He throws himself back into bed, nearly crushing Dean in the process, and before his mind can stop him he’s kissing him again. Dean laughs softly but quickly reciprocates, grabbing a handful of Castiel’s hair to pull him closer, closer, impossibly close. They’re both shaking messes by the time Dean pulls away, and Castiel’s first thought is that he’s only playing around, that he’s going to throw him out of bed and ask him to get out. 

He gets a sweet smile instead.

”Hey,” Dean says, eyes sparkling like the freshly fallen snow outside. 

”Hello, Dean,” Castiel replies, at a loss for words. 

”I thought yesterday was just a dream, and then I wake up to this,” he chuckles, pulling Castiel down for another kiss. 

”You’re not gay,” Castiel mumbles against Dean’s lips, but is only met by another soft laugh.

”I’ll be gay for you, gorgeous.”

”I’m serious.”

”So am I. Remember Aaron?”

”Aaron? Aaron Bass?”

”Yep.” 

Castiel straightens up, straddling Dean with his hands on his chest, and gives him a doubtful look.

”No! Really?”

”What do you want me to say? It was freshman year.”

”Oh my- I can’t believe this. Does anyone know?”

”Anyone other than Aaron? I don’t think so.” Castiel lets himself be dragged down into another kiss, that soon turns extremely heated and Dean’s devil’s hands start to travel towards Castiel’s crotch. He’s incredibly turned on and he wants this so bad, but his mind is occupied with other thoughts. 

”What’s wrong?” Dean asks eventually, sensing that there’s still some things that they need to sort out. 

”I’m a virgin,” he blurts, which only entices a slight frown from Dean’s part.

”That’s okay, I don’t mind. We’ll take it slow.”  
”It’s more than that - I can’t do this if it’s only a one time-thing for you. Not with all that’s been going on between us, you’re too important to me. I- I want to have sex with you, I really do. But if we do this once and then go back to ignoring each other, I think my head might explode.” 

”Cas,” Dean says softly, cradling his head with calloused fingers. ”I’m not going to let your head explode. Don’t worry.” 

”But I do worry. And there’s something else.” 

”What’s that?” 

”I’m not going to do this unless you tell me why I found you passed out on your bathroom floor. And why Sam knew that it was going to happen.” 

Now it’s Dean’s turn to pull away, which is more like him pushing Castiel off of him since he is the one on top.

”Sam sent you here?” Every trace of lightness in his voice is gone, replaced by a bitterness that Castiel wants to wipe away but he doesn’t know how to do that.

”You haven’t replied to any of his calls. He was worried, and I understand why. For how long were you in that bathroom?”

”I dunno, what day is it?”

It’s a joke, Castiel understands as much, but it still shoots a spark of worry through him. 

”New year’s eve,” he mumbles, and the shock is imminent on Dean’s face. However when Castiel tries to question it, he’s met by more jokes and evasions, and it’s impossible to fight Dean further. Instead, Castiel falls on top of him and smothers him with kisses and he wonders how he’s supposed to ever live without kissing Dean again. 

They shuffle around until Castiel is on his back, breathless, when Dean starts moving down the bed to the hem of his t-shirt. Lips and eager fingers find their way underneath the fabric, and slowly pushes it up until they gain access to Castiel’s stomach and the lower part of his chest. Castiel can’t help it; he moans obscurely, much to Dean’s amusement. 

”Do you trust me?” he rumbles, his voice vibrating through Castiel’s body. 

”Y-yes!” he stutters, just as Dean bites down on his left hipbone. He is then rewarded with Dean unbuttoning his jeans, and he lifts his hips slightly as they are pulled down. 

”Cas, do you want this? Do you want me to do this? Because there’s no going back once it’s done.”

”I want you, Dean,” Castiel bursts out, needing him in a way that almost scares him. 

This. This right here is unbelievable, and Dean is beautiful and the weight of his body is not something that Castiel could have made up. If Dean says that he’s not straight, and that he wants to do this as well, Castiel can’t really stop him. 

Every stray thought in his mind vanishes as Dean mouths his straining erection, and he straightens up with a cry, settling for leaning on his elbows. 

”Oh god,” he groans, achingly hard against his boxers and he just wants them _off_.

Dean seems to get the picture, because he is slowly pulling at the fabric, gasping softly as Castiel’s cock bobs free. 

”So beautiful,” he mumbles, and presses a kiss to the tip of his cock. 

”I need- I want-” Castiel rambles incoherently, not able to express himself because he doesn’t know what he needs. Dean does, however, and without warning he opens up and guides Castiel into his mouth, teeth grazing the sensitive skin. 

The sensations are overwhelming. Dean’s mouth is hot and wet and when he sucks his cheeks in the pressure is unbelievable, leaving Castiel disheveled in all the right ways. Along with swallowing Castiel down, Dean is able to simultaneously fondle his balls and massage his entrance, deft fingers prodding at the rim. 

”Have you ever fingered yourself?” Dean rasps as he pulls off, and just knowing that the reason behind his sore throat is from _sucking Castiel’s cock_ is almost enough to make him come that very second. 

”Uh-huh,” Castiel mumbles, nodding frantically to clarify.

”May I?”

”Dear god, yes.”

Dean’s fingers disappear for just a split second, and Castiel can hear the slick sound of Dean drowning them in saliva, before stars shoot his vision into darkness when Dean pushes a finger inside of him, at the same time as he swallows him down. 

Dean works him open, thrusting his fingers against his prostate in an agonizingly rough way, reaching deeper than Castiel ever could on his own. He latches his fingers into Dean’s hair, needing to hold on to something because he’s certain that he’s going insane. Pleasure spikes through him in a nearly painful manner and he just needs to come, right now, and then Dean swirls his tongue around Castiel’s throbbing length and he explodes, shooting come down his throat.

Castiel collapses back on the bed, every muscle in his body limp and he takes a deep breath. 

”Fuck,” he moans, wiping a hand across his face. 

”You alright?” Dean asks amusedly, but Castiel hears the worry in his voice. The truth is that Castiel has never felt better, but now that his climax is over he’s starting to wonder what will happen next. Whether Dean will keep his promise, or if this is the first and the last time that they do this. 

”Cas?” 

Surely, Castiel isn’t imagining the concern that he is hearing? Dean makes his way back up to face Castiel, and he presses a careful kiss against his lips. 

”I don’t know if I can do this,” Castiel whispers, hoping that Dean won’t hear his words. He does, however, of course he does, and hurt flashes across his face. 

”Seriously?” he barks, and when Castiel doesn’t reply he rolls off him and spits, ”Fuck you.” 

Castiel thinks that he’s going to be left alone, but thankfully Dean stays in the room. He starts pacing back and forth from wall to wall, hands clasped behind his neck. He looks lost. So painfully confused and upset and every thought that passes through him seems like it’s torture. 

For once in his life, Castiel decides to fight instead of hiding. Because this is important. Dean is important. 

”Dean,” he calls, but doesn’t get any kind of response. He swings his legs over the edge of the bed, pulls his underwear and pants back on in one swift movement and steps in front of Dean, blocking his path. 

”Move,” he growls, but this time Castiel doesn’t budge. He puts his hands on Dean’s shoulders, and keeps them there even as he flinches from the touch. 

”You left me, Dean. You came back from Italy and treated me like I was air. And I know that there’s an explanation somewhere, a reason for why you did it, and I forgive you. I forgive you because I see the way you are with Sam, and I know that you are a good man. But I can’t trust you again unless you tell me that this is real. And you have to tell me what’s going on in your head because you’re scaring me.” 

”Please don’t touch me,” is all that he says. Castiel pulls his hands back quickly, trying to hide the hurt that Dean’s words inflict upon him. He doesn’t want to be touched by Castiel. 

”Like that. You just gave me a blowjob, why won’t you let me touch you now?” Castiel continues softly, and Dean is backing away from him. 

”I don’t- I don’t know. I don’t like it. I don’t want you to touch me, I don’t want anyone to touch me, I just-” 

His breathing quickens appreciably, enough for Castiel to take another step back because he’s worried that Dean is feeling crowded. 

”It’s okay,” he soothes, but the words aren’t sinking in. Dean grabs hold of his biceps again, a gesture that Castiel is starting to recognize and he wants to wrap him up in his arms and just hold him, but he realizes that that’s not what Dean needs. His breaths turn erratic, and by now Castiel can actually see his body shaking. 

”What do you need?” he asks softly, refusing to give in to the panic that’s seizing his chest, because it’s evident that it’s nothing compared to what Dean is experiencing. He’s digging his fingers into his arms even as he’s trembling and hyperventilating. Castiel watches his shaking body, the way his eyes are clenched shut and his lips softly move around silent words. 

Dean suddenly spurs into action and leaves the room, quickly followed by Castiel. They cross the hall to the bathroom, where Dean unceremoniously kneels in front of the toilet and throws up, but just like yesterday there’s nothing left for him to throw up so it’s more like his body convulsing in on itself. Castiel watches as the heaving stops and Dean continues to move, as if he doesn’t know how to stop. He gets into the bathtub, where he turns the water on and sits down, still fully clothed. His head is buried in between his knees with his hands clasped behind his neck, and only then does he stop moving. If only Castiel could unwind him, stretch him back out into the guy who can joke around and give blowjobs underneath the covers, maybe they could get away from this shaking mess that Dean is now. 

The pain that he feels seems to lodge itself in Castiel’s throat, and he wants to cry. Did he do this to Dean? Was he pushing him too hard? Maybe he should just have sucked him off in return and he would have been sated and happy now, instead of wound up and tense. 

Castiel closes the toilet seat and sits on top of it, leaving him in Dean’s line of sight in case he decides to look up. And then he waits. 

They sit like that for a long time, no sound besides the constant trickling of the water hitting the floor of the bathtub and Dean’s ragged breaths. He wants to speak, but no words are sufficient right now. He wants to sit next to Dean, but distance feels like the safest approach. 

By the time Dean’s breathing has calmed down, he’s shivering. His clothes are soaked and his muscles are all tensed up, and Castiel finally dares to speak.

”May I turn the water off?” he asks softly, and after an excruciatingly long pause Dean nods. Castiel reaches for the faucet and twists the knob until the sound of running water is nothing but an echo in their minds.  
”Dean, what can I do?” 

”Just don’t leave me,” he whispers, voice broken in all the wrong ways. Castiel nods his consent and grabs a few towels from the rack, placing them within Dean’s reach and he’s a little pleased as Dean wraps them around his cold body. They remain silent, the minutes passing in no time at all as Castiel listlessly watches Dean. 

He wonders what went wrong. Whatever happened to create this turmoil, this unnecessary suffering inside Dean. Why his mind would attack him like this. Suddenly every doubt Castiel has ever felt towards him seems insignificant, and he’s starting to realize that it’s enough that Dean is alive. That he’s going to lose himself in this man, that he doesn’t care if he’s going to be heartbroken when they reach their indefinite end. He can’t turn away from Dean now, and he knows that he never even had a choice. 


	7. Make the voices stop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO I just noticed that I skipped a chapter, this is chapter 7 and I'll post the next one too... So any plot holes or anything that didn't make sense - this is probably the reason *whoops* 
> 
> Warnings:  
> Dean has a panic attack, and is so wound up that he self-harms again (no detailed descriptions of it though)
> 
> ONCE AGAIN so sorry for any confusion this may have brought you, hope you enjoy! Kudos and comments are as always appreciated (you are my little angels thank you so much for reading xx)

Dean wakes up to a headache, and that’s never a good sign. With a groan he rolls around to his other side and is met by the most satisfying sight he’s ever seen: Cas, drooling and snoring lightly with his mouth half open. Stifling a chuckle, Dean inches closer until he is close enough to kiss him. 

If someone had asked him about his sexuality two years ago, or even two days ago, he would have laughed at the question and told them to go stick their pro-homo thoughts in a place that they would be quite familiar with.

But now?

Now, the first thing he wants to do when he wakes up is kiss Cas, and all sorts of PG-13-activities come to mind that he’s not going to dwell on for too long. He wants to make him pancakes in the mornings and cook dinner together in the evenings, he wants a house with a picket fence and the whole goddamn deal. 

He’s gone on Castiel and he never wants to find his way back. 

When the soft morning kisses finally manage to open up the ocean-blue galaxies for Dean to look at, they are not quite as bright as they should be. And the skin between the dark eyebrows that should be smooth is instead home to two deep crevices. The pink, delicate lips are pursed together against Dean’s next kiss, and the sharp jaw is clenched tight.

Dean pulls back and is surprised when Cas lets him. He tries to think back of the night before, what he could have possibly done to upset Cas in this way but his mind is blank and he remembers nothing. The disoriented feeling grows when he lifts his head to look out the window and sees that it’s dark outside. 

”What time is it?” he asks. Cas reaches for his phone on the bedside table and turns the screen towards Dean.

5:19 pm. Late afternoon. Which means that Dean has either been asleep throughout the day or that there’s an entire section of memories that’s been blocked out. Going by Cas’s expression, he has most definitely _not_ been asleep the whole day.

”What happened?” he tries, and reaches up to touch a stubbled cheek.

”You don’t remember anything?”

”I don’t-” 

Cas closes his eyes, and it hits him full-force in the face like he’s been punched by Mike Tyson. 

The anxiety attack. 

Shit. 

Fuck. 

Oh, please, no. Cas saw the whole thing and now he doesn’t want anything to do with him. 

Dean shoots up into a sitting position and digs his fingers into his skull, wanting nothing more than to cut himself but he can’t do that now because Cas is still there, and Dean doesn’t know _why_ he’s still there because he should have run away by now, like they all do, just leave him when they realize what a mess he is. 

”I understand that I may have triggered it and I’m so sorry. I pushed you too far.”

Dean doesn’t know what to say. He knows that it’s not Cas’s fault that he spiralled down into a full-blown anxiety attack, but at the same time he knows that it may not have happened had he not been so insistent on prodding at him with questions. 

”’s alright, Cas. Don’t worry about it,” he huffs, needing to get the focus off himself for two damn seconds. ”So today’s new year’s eve, huh?”

”Dean-”

”Pretty cool. A new year, just hours away. 1998. Do you have any new year’s resolutions?” 

He’s pushing him away, and he knows it. Because Cas sees beyond his false facade, he knows the second that Dean is lying, and while Dean wants nothing more than to tell him the truth he can’t, because it will crush him. It will crush the both of them. 

”Stop,” Cas orders. Only then does Dean realize that he’s been digging his nails into the wounds on his upper arms, and he reluctantly unclenches his fingers. ”Stop doing this, Dean. We both know that you’re not completely at peace with yourself, you don’t have to hide it from me.”

”I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

”The hell you do!” Cas snaps, and out of all the things that he has said, it is the curse that grounds Dean. The rough word slips out effortlessly, but Dean still latches on to it because Cas is not the kind of person who swears. Sure, a few curses may have escaped while Dean was sucking him off, but that was in a completely different context. Now, Cas is upset and he doesn’t know how to convey it properly to Dean. But Dean can’t grasp the reason behind Cas’s anger, can’t understand why he would feel the need to turn to swearwords. 

_You are nothing._

There’s that voice again, exploding inside his skull. He’s not worth getting upset over, because he is _n o t h i n g_. He bites back the explanation that he wants to give to Cas, assuming that he wouldn’t be interested. He’s just Dean. Nothing. 

”Talk to me, please,” Cas says quietly, and his voice gives Dean the strength to lift his head. 

”I’m nothing.” 

Like Cas’s swearword, it just slips out. Dean wants to punch himself for saying something so stupid, for admitting to his inner voice that it’s right. 

”You are so far from nothing that anyone could possibly be. You are _everything_.” 

Dean cringes at the words and hides behind his hands. 

_I know how dead you are inside. How worthless you feel. I know how you look into a mirror... and hate what you see._

It’s the voice, Dean’s voice, angry yet emotionless. The one that’s echoing in his head.

Sometimes Dean wishes that he would hear the voice of a crazy clown or his grandfather, and know that he was truly insane. Instead, he’s stuck with his own voice and his own thoughts and no one is attacking him but himself. 

”You are so important, Dean. And if you think for even a second that I’m going to turn away from you because you’re a little messed up, think again. There’s nothing you can tell me that’s going to make me leave.”

Dean presses the heels of his hands against his eyes, feeling surrounded by Cas’s voice and now his own as well. It’s so loud inside his head that it’s starting to ache.

Behind his closed eyelids his own face flickers, like a muddy reflection of himself, with bleeding gashes and wounds and bruises littering his skin. 

_You can't escape me. You're gonna die. And this? This is what you're gonna become!_

He’s going to die. That’s how he feels right now. His heart is pounding its way out of his chest and he doesn’t even want to think about breathing with how constricted his throat is. 

_It's not much of a life worth saving now, is it?_

_You are nothing._

”Dean, look at me,” Cas calls, his gravel voice enveloping Dean in an unexpected comfort. 

”I can’t make it stop.”

”It’s okay. You’re okay.” 

Cas doesn’t try to touch him again, for which he is grateful. He’s frozen still on the bed. Cas’s breathing breaks through Dean’s self-destructing mind, and it’s something that Dean can focus on, something that gradually tunes out all the other noises. It’s soothing to the point where Dean feels a little sleepy, and he yields to gravity and lies down next to Cas. 

”Thank you,” he whispers, forcing himself not to over-analyze his own words. Cas is next to him, their faces only inches apart, and he starts to sing softly. 

” _Now the night is coming to and end_

_The sun will rise and we will try again_

_Stay alive, stay alive, for me_

_You will die, but now your life is free_

_Take pride in what is sure to die.”_

It’s beautiful, the melody taking Cas’s voice up and down a rollercoaster of tones, and it makes Dean smile. He fumbles with his hands that are stuck in between his thighs, until he gets one free and can let it rest on the side of Cas’s neck, where he can rub his thumb across the magnificently sharp jaw.

”Sam told me to play you some Led Zeppelin, but I don’t know the lyrics to any of their songs.”

”That’s his trick? Playing music?”

”Isn’t music the loveliest thing that there is?”

”I thought bees were your thing.” Cas grins widely at that, enough for his nose to scrunch up and his gum to show, and it’s the most gorgeous Dean’s ever seen him.

”I can’t believe you’re still going to tease me about that.”

”Don’t kill the bee! I’ll catch it and let it out, don’t kill it!” Dean calls out, mimicking an event that took place a long time ago. 

”I did let it out, though.” 

”And the world is a much better place because of it,” Dean agrees and scuffs forwards for a kiss. It’s soft and slow, like they have all the time in the world and while Dean is not so sure about that, he enjoys it while he can. If he were to die tomorrow, he’d like to spend his last few hours kissing Cas like this. 

”Music does help,” Dean reveals once they’ve pulled apart to regain their breaths. ”Led Zeppelin’s calmer songs, or The Beatles.”

”Mmm, your mother’s favorite band,” Cas mumbles through closed eyes.

”Sammy just puts on Stairway to Heaven whenever I- if I- when I zone out. Angel helps too.”

”Angel?”

”My dog. We have three of them, Bones, Tails and Angel. The other two are pretty much Sam’s,” Dean explains with a slight smile. He misses all three dogs right now, since his family brought them to Bobby’s. Angel might have helped fend off the worst of his anxiety. It’s still there, at the back of his mind, working its way through everything that is Dean, but for now he can restrain it. 

”How old are they?”

”Five years, give or take. We got them-” He cuts himself off, because he was about to mention Italy. Cas gives him a confused look and tilts his head a little, and Dean can’t just leave the sentence like that. ”A few weeks after we got back from Italy.”

”Oh.” 

There’s really no easy way to continue that conversation, so they end up just watching each other in silence. 

”Dean-”

”Please, don’t say anything. Please. I know that you’re doubting me, but trust me. I’m completely gone on you. I’m in over my head because I’ve never felt like this before, but I want this.” He presses an urgent kiss to Cas’s lips, not knowing how else to make him believe his words. ”I want us. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” 

The sad smile that crosses Cas’s face is not what Dean had expected, but he’ll take whatever he can get. 

”I want us too,” he whispers, and it’s enough for Dean to melt into his touch. He closes his eyes and lets Cas caress his skin, fingertips ghosting along his neck, curving around his jaw to his cheek, across the blushed freckles and up towards Dean’s right eye. The fingertips gently press against his closed eyelids, before they return to the cheek and are joined by Cas’s entire hand. 

Dean feels completely safe like this. Cas touches him with such caution, in a way that gives him room to breathe when he should be feeling crowded. It’s a refreshment, being touched and not wanting to shy away. 

Cas brings up his other hand as well, but doesn’t take it higher than Dean’s chest. He presses it firmly over Dean’s heart, and the gesture makes Dean open his eyes. 

”I want us,” he repeats, and Dean nods. He’s about to pull in for a kiss when he remembers throwing up repeatedly and swallowing Cas’s come, and suddenly he feels the sour taste in his mouth. The fact that Cas hasn’t commented on it means that he’s either got a shitty excuse for a nose or that he’s too polite to say anything.

With a grunt Dean pulls away, regretting it the moment Cas’s hands disappear. 

”I’m gonna take a shower and get cleaned up. There’s a second one downstairs if you need to go to the bathroom.”

”Okay,” Cas says softly, giving him a look that Dean doesn’t want to break. 

Eventually he gathers enough willpower to leave the bed, and Cas in it, and he grabs a clean henley and a pair of underwear on his way to the bathroom. He frowns as he tries to lock the door, because the handle is hanging loosely and the lock looks like someone has pulled it out by force. Without success he tries to put it back together, so he ends up just slamming the door shut and hoping that Cas will stay away. 

He shucks his clothes off and grabs his toothbrush, drowning it in toothpaste before he brusquely starts brushing his teeth. The sour taste shrinks away, replaced with a minty feeling that lingers on his lips, and he nearly smiles through it before he takes a look in the mirror in front of him.

The face that looks back is undoubtedly him, but he barely recognizes himself. His cheeks look concave, as if someone has carved them out with a spoon, and the rings under his eyes are an angry shade of purple. Luckily, the bruises on his neck are all but gone, but he can still feel Abaddon’s arm crushing his windpipe, slowly killing him. A shiver runs through his body and he grabs the edges of the sink, pulling the toothbrush out in the process. He leans forwards and spits the remaining toothpaste and saliva out, letting his mouth hang open when he’s done. 

Once again, he’s backed himself into a corner that he doesn’t know how to get out of. Just the thought of Abaddon is enough to make him nauseous, and he groans quietly, rocking slowly back and forth. He can’t admit it to himself, but he knows that she practically raped him. Sure, at the beginning he was into it, but when he wanted her to stop she kept going. He feels violated, dirty, like his body doesn’t belong to him anymore. 

With a start he realizes that they didn’t use a condom.

He quickly looks up into the mirror and tries to get the memories back, tries to remember asking for a condom and the feeling when she rolled it onto his cock, but there’s nothing. He didn’t reach his climax that night, and she’s told him more than once that she’s on birth control pills, but he’s suddenly acutely aware of the fact that he’s never asked her if she was clean. And assuming it feels way to risky.

He looks down at his naked cock, wondering if he’s caught some disease. His mind immediately turns to HIV, but he quickly quiets it down. There’s no need getting panicked over something he doesn’t know anything about. 

But…what if? What if he’s seriously sick? What if it’s going to kill him? What if he has sex with Cas and transmits it to him?

His breathing starts to grow erratic, and he chastises his mind for letting him get himself worked up again. There’s probably nothing wrong with him. So why can’t he fucking breathe?

He rocks back a bit till his arms are stretched out on the sink in front of him, and he lets his gaze flicker across his marred skin. He’s been adamant about not going below his elbows, since he knows that rolling his sleeves up is an ingrained habit that he’s not going to be able to break. From the elbows and up, however… 

Fine scars and scabs cover the insides of his arms, and there are even some wounds that have barely closed yet. There are more lines than he can count, more than he wants to admit to himself, but the proof of his hurt is right there in front of him. More scars cover the insides of his thighs, but he usually stays away from there now. Most of them have faded into barely noticeable bumps. 

And even as he’s crying over how badly he has hurt himself, he’s climbing into the bathtub with the razor in his hand. 

Because Abaddon almost strangled him.

Because he was raped. 

Because he’s screaming at himself that he’s nothing. 

Because he can’t stop. 

 

When Dean emerges from the bathroom, he feels completely relaxed. He has scrubbed his skin clean to the point where it’s still red in some places, his hair isn’t oily, and there’s a bandage wrapped around his right arm, the pulse underneath it strong enough to keep Dean’s mind occupied. 

He walks in on a completely naked Cas, who has a glitter ribbon from the christmas tree wrapped around his cock and a pair of 1998-glasses that hide his brilliant eyes. It’s the most ridiculous thing that Dean has ever seen, and he bursts out in a loud laughter that even has Cas’s lips quirking up into a smile. 

”I wasn’t done yet,” he complains, holding up a santa costume that makes all kinds of weird images pop up in Dean’s head. 

”I’m glad I didn’t have to see you in that,” he chuckles, nodding towards the costume, ”or else I would never have been able to see a picture of Santa Claus again. What the hell are you doing?”

Cas fidgets a bit on the spot, his hands twitching as if he wants to cover up his groin, but he refuses to move.

”Since the new year is only a few hours away, I was thinking that we should celebrate. And I guess that you haven’t had much of a christmas celebration here alone, so I figured that-”

Dean has closed the distance between them in three long strides, and he shuts Cas up with a kiss. It’s messy and urgent and their tongues are fighting for entrance into each other’s mouths, but it’s perfect. Dean takes Cas’s bottom lip in between his teeth and slowly pulls away from him, tugging at the lip softly before he lets in some air between them. 

”Merry christmas,” he grins, and feels his smile widen as Cas rolls his eyes. 

”Merry christmas, you assbutt. Totally ruined my surprise.” 

”Ah, is that so? I’m guessing that this-” he reaches a hand down and pulls a little on the ribbon around Cas’s half-hard length, ”-was your surprise?” He kisses him swiftly, breaking it off before they can’t stop. ”It’s wonderful,” Dean finishes, and trails a finger along the length of Cas’s dick. 

”Dean- _ugh-_ stop, there’s something else- _oh my god_ -we can’t do this now, there’s- _Dean_!” Dean has gone from innocent petting to wrapping his entire hand around Cas’s dick and he’s now giving him long, slow strokes, forming a tunnel that he uses to fuck him. 

”What’s that?” Dean teases, thoroughly enjoying the way he can make Cas disheveled in less than a minute. He continues for a few more seconds, before he backs away and lets Cas just breathe for a moment. 

”I ordered pizza, and it should be here soon. I’d like to go downstairs and pay for it _with clothes on_ , and that means that you have to _stop._ ”

Dean holds his hands up, grin still plastered on his face and Cas sighs deeply. 

”You’re like a horny teenager, it’s frustrating.” 

”I _am_ a horny teenager,” Dean laughs, but he doesn’t approach Cas again. He watches in silence as Cas locates his underwear and pulls it on, _leaving the ribbon around his dick_ , and then puts on his t-shirt and the ratty jeans that he arrived in. He takes a determined, short breath before turning back towards Dean, who just can’t stop smiling. 

”Dude, are you going to leave that on?”

”What?” he asks, a little irritable, and looks at his shirt. ”I’m not opening the door bare-chested.”

”I meant the _ribbon,_ ” Dean chuckles, and with the way Cas’s cheeks flush Dean is pretty sure that he didn’t even notice. ”Oh god, this is great,” he continues, and it turns even better as the door bell rings. Cas shoots him a terrified look, but Dean just opens the door and motions for Cas to head to the stairs. ”Your pants aren’t see-through,” he murmurs just as he walks by, which earns him a punch in the chest. 

Before Cas can open the door, Dean positions himself just beside it, where the pizzaman won’t be able to see him but Cas certainly will. And poor Cas, he doesn’t think about it until the door is wide open and he’s digging out cash from his wallet, and Dean is running his hands across his own body, making sure that he’s in Cas’s line of sight when he focuses on his crotch and thighs, massaging his own flesh and the growing bulge in his pants. Cas’s lips sort of twitch, but he keeps his gaze locked forwards, smiling at the small-talk that the pizzaman is undoubtedly making. 

Dean starts to rock his hips forwards, and he leans back against the wall, his head banging against it loudly enough for Cas to flinch. 

”What was that?” the pizzaman asks, and by now Cas is holding the large box in his hands and is already trying to close the door. 

”Nothing, just the cat.”

”No, I’m sure that I heard something right here-”

”It’s nothing to worry about. Really. Thank you so much,” Cas finishes hastily, and shuts the door quickly. When he turns towards him, Dean is already half-hard and his jeans are growing more uncomfortable by the second. 

”Maybe we should invite the pizzaman too?” Dean asks, his words turning into a moan as Cas locks their lips together. 

”Not going to happen. And we’re going to eat this now, so that-” he nods towards Dean’s crotch ”-will have to wait.”

”Oh, Cas, pleease-” Dean begs, but it’s no use. Cas disappears into the kitchen, leaving Dean alone to cool down. He palms himself through his pants and shifts his hips around until the sensation is at least bearable, and only then does he join Cas. 

They eat the pizza in front of the tv, the Time’s square-footage running in the background. They talk nonsense, keeping to light topics that make Dean chuckle and Cas’s lips crack up into the most gorgeous of smiles, and it’s easy. That’s the only way Dean can describe what being with Cas feels like. It’s easier than breathing, than living. Being with Cas is what he was made for. 

”The ball is about to drop,” Cas says suddenly, pointing towards the tv. Dean looks up as well, and for a moment they just listen to the crowd as they count down the seconds to the new year. 

” _5…4…3…2…1…HAPPY NEW YEAR!_ ”

Cas turns to Dean with his lips quirked up into a crooked smile that Dean just has to reciprocate. 

”Happy new year, Dean.”

”It’s not the new year here just yet, you’ll have to hold on for one more hour.” 

”Whatever,” he snorts with an eye roll, and grabs the last slice of the pizza. ”So, what do we do now?” he asks around a mouthful, as if there wasn’t a fucking christmas ribbon wrapped around his dick and as if Dean wasn’t still half-hard in his pants. 

”Seriously?”

”What? I thought maybe you’d want to go somewhere to watch the fireworks?”

” _Cas_ ,” Dean sighs exasperatedly. ”I’m more in the mood for another kind of fireworks, if you know what I’m saying?” 

The way Cas’s eyes widen and his pupils dilate tells Dean that he knows _exactly_ what he’s saying. 

”Are you sure? I mean, don’t feel like we have to do something now just because we told each other that we want this, if you change your mind or something I’d understand, and-”

”Shut up. Castiel Novak, will you have sex with me?” Dean interrupts, and his obscure question is enough to send them into a laughing fit, tears streaming down their eyes. 

”That’s the most ridiculous thing anyone’s ever said to me,” Cas gasps in between giggles, and he’s clutching the side of his stomach where a cramp has undoubtedly formed. 

”I’m never going to speak again,” Dean groans, hiding his embarrassed face behind his hands. Cas softly pries them away, however, with a glint in his eyes. 

”Dean Winchester, I will gladly have sex with you.” They laugh some more at that, but now they are acutely aware of the proximity between them, and Dean can even feel Cas’s breaths against his skin. His smile falters as he places a hand on Cas’s knee, squeezing it. 

”We should go upstairs,” he says at last, and Cas’s nodding is enough to push them into action. Dean goes first, feeling Cas’s burning stare on his back the entire way up the stairs, nearly tripping on one of the steps because he’s so focused on the man behind him. He reaches the second floor and turns a sharp right, the bedroom door only two paces from the stairs and he turns the doorhandle hard enough for it to creak in protest. Cas follows him inside and gently closes the door behind him, suddenly seeming a bit shy. 

”I’m a virgin,” he says quietly, and Dean nods. He told him as much only yesterday, before-

”Hey, what about my blowjob? Was it that bad?” Dean exclaims, interrupting his own line of thought. Cas’s cheeks redden even further, and he stubbornly keeps his gaze on the floor. 

”That wasn’t…sex, though, right? We didn’t-”

”Dude, there’s a whole book with different definitions of sex. Some would even say that jerking yourself off is sex, and I definitely think that blowjobs count. So, congratulations! Not a virgin anymore!” he chuckles, and Cas seems to perk up a little at the thought. He wipes his palms on his jeans and Dean is suddenly extremely aware of how sweaty his own hands are. He brings one up to the back of his neck just to have something to do with them, scratching the base of his neck tentatively. 

”So, what did you have in mind? When, you know, you got yourself all decorated,” Dean asks, nodding towards Cas’s crotch. Another flush spreads on his cheeks, and it makes Dean want to kiss him. 

”I don’t know. I was just hoping that something would happen.”

”Hm, well something will happen if we want it to. How about we just lie down for a while? And start out slow?” 

”Okay,” Cas agrees, and they make their way to the oversized bed. Cas lies stiffly on his back, hands laced together on his chest and he looks straight up at the ceiling as Dean lies beside him. He’s not sure whether he and Cas should actually sleep with each other or not, seeing as they haven’t really been on speaking terms for a very long time, and Dean is terrified of ruining everything just because of his inability to keep it in his pants. 

When Cas finally turns his head to the side to look at Dean, the resistance in him vanishes. Cas wants this. And if he changes his mind, Dean trusts that he will tell him. He brings a hand up and starts to stroke the side of his face, feeling the roughness of the slight stubble underneath his fingertips. His hands travel back to his jaw, then underneath his ear, and all the way around his neck where he twists his fingers around the longer strands of hair and tugs gently. 

Cas has brought up a hand as well, his fingers softly grazing Dean’s lips and it’s enough for Dean to scoot closer until their noses are touching. Dean tilts his chin up and can just reach Cas’s lips, pecking them before pulling back slightly again. 

”Is kissing okay?” he asks softly. 

”Kissing is good,” Cas mumbles, already searching for Dean’s lips again. Dean grants the request and holds back a little, reveling in the sensation of Cas working at his lips, sometimes catching them in between his teeth before running his tongue over the same sensitive area. Dean moans appreciatively which encourages Cas, enough for him to press his tongue against Dean’s half-open mouth, quickly gaining entrance. Their lips sloth together, creating all kinds of sickly sweet sounds that Dean can’t get enough of, and when he gently bites at Cas’s bottom lips the groan that leaves Cas’s throat wrecks him completely. 

He heaves himself up onto his hands and knees, clambering over Cas until he’s straddling him, one knee on either side of his hips and elbows framing his face. Their lips are pretty much glued together, only parting every now and then to allow them to catch their breaths. Cas’s hands are stuck on Dean’s shoulders, and he doesn’t seem to be planning on moving them anytime soon, so Dean decides to have some fun. Evidently he’s the one with more experience, so he feels like he needs to do his best to make Cas comfortable.

Reluctantly Dean leaves Cas’s lips, letting his own trail the edge of his jawline before he dips down behind his earlobes, sucking lightly at the skin there. Cas’s heavy breathing is enough to goad him on, and he continues down his throat, teeth nipping at his pulse point and tongue immediately darting out to lick at the abused skin. Dean sets up a system where he bites down and then licks at the mark, all the way from Cas’s earlobe to his collarbones, where the bone is so close to the skin that Dean can’t resist biting down a little harder. Cas moans loudly and his hands find Dean’s hair, fingernails digging into his scalp. 

Dean pulls the neck of Cas’s t-shirt down as far as it will go, and continues to work his way across every inch of Cas’s skin. They’re both breathless messes by the time he pulls away and makes his way back up to Cas’s face, smothering him with a chaste kiss. 

”Still good?” he asks, and Cas nods frantically. ”Can I take your shirt off?”

”I don’t know, _can_ you?” Cas snorts, but falls back into the same blissed-out expression when Dean slips his fingers underneath the hem of his shirt, squeezing at his abs and his hips. He continues towards Cas’s chest, bringing the shirt with him in the process, and exposes smooth, pale skin, a toned stomach and chest that quivers lightly under Dean’s touch. Cas reaches his arms up above his head and Dean gets the gesture, pulling the shirt off completely. It ends up somewhere on the floor.

Cas falls back on the bed, and Dean takes a moment to just take in him. His beautiful body that Dean never wants to tear his eyes off, hair already sticking out in every direction after Dean has run his hands through it. 

Those brilliant, radiating blue eyes that are observing Dean closely. 

While Dean just pauses for a few seconds, Cas reaches down and pops open the button to his jeans, continuing to taunt Dean by slowly pulling the zipper down as far as it will go. The outline of his dick is visible through the thin fabric of his boxers, and Dean can’t resist cupping his hand around it. It entices a moan from Cas’s throat that will definitely be stuck in Dean’s mind for a long time. 

Dean works on Cas’s jeans, pulling them all the way down to his feet where he lets Cas kick them off, along with his socks. He then pulls his own sweatpants down, suddenly all too aware of the scars on his thighs but hopefully Cas will be distracted enough to not notice them. Once he’s only wearing boxers and his grey henley, Dean leans down over Cas again and their lips lock together easily. 

Dean starts working his way into Cas’s mouth this time with his tongue. It’s a bit clumsy in their eagerness, but so incredibly good that Dean never wants to stop. Cas bites down on his lip and draws a groan from deep inside his chest, and he rocks his hips down from sheer instinct - and he’s met by the most wonderful of all feelings - his cock slides up next to Cas’s, both of them hard and the friction that the movement creates is _amazing_. 

” _Oh_ -that feels so good- _Dean,_ ” Cas gasps, pressing his head down against the pillow when Dean keeps on rutting against him. 

”You’re wonderful. So, so wonderful,” Dean murmurs into his ear, the praise easily slipping from his lips before their next kiss. Cas slides his hands around Dean’s waist to his back, where he clutches at his shirt and pulls Dean down towards him, their hips crashing again and their cocks brushing. 

”I need you,” Cas breathes, sucking lightly on Dean’s neck. 

”Harder,” Dean growls, tilting his head to give him better access. When Cas sucks lightly again, he changes their position so that he can reach Cas’s neck, and sucks down hard enough for a whimper to escape Cas’s lips. ”Mark me,” Dean rasps, letting Cas’s lips reach his neck again. A few soft kisses later, Cas is sucking and biting at his skin hard enough to draw blood to the surface, and Dean’s only focusing on trying not to collapse on Cas. 

”Just like that,” he sighs, rocking his hips down as a reward. 

Cas somehow wraps his legs around Dean’s waist, pulling him even closer with every thrust. Dean can feel his climax starting to approach, so he stills immediately, not wanting to blow too early. Cas senses his hesitance and looks up, eyes already asking what’s wrong. 

”I just need a second, or I’m gonna come right now,” he grins, pulling away from Cas’s distracting body. He lets Cas have a breather as well, and when he feels ready he unceremoniously takes hold of Cas’s boxers and pulls them down, freeing his seeping cock and the _ridiculous_ ribbon that’s tied around it. 

When Dean clambers down and unties the ribbon with his teeth, they both agree that it was not ridiculous at all, but _extremely_ hot. 

With the ribbon gone, Dean wraps his lips around the velvety skin and swallows around Cas’s head, playing with the slit just underneath it with his tongue. If the moans erupting from Cas’s throat are anything to go by, he’s only seconds away from coming. 

Dean pulls off with a loud pop and grabs the base of Cas’s length to stave off his orgasm, getting a frustrated grunt in response. 

”Don’t want you to come either, sweetheart. Not just yet.” 

_Don’t come yet, wait for me_. Abaddon’s voice shoots through Dean’s mind like a bullet through butter, and he falters for a second, the sensation of not being able to breathe back again. 

But then Cas is pulling him down for a kiss, and suddenly Abaddon is not so important anymore.

”Dean,” Cas whispers, voice not quite able to say the name any louder. Dean kisses him urgently, pouring himself out through his lips, and is met by a smile. 

”I want you to fuck me,” he continues, and Dean has to physically hold back his orgasm at those words. 

Once he’s regained enough control of himself to actually speak, he meets Cas’s eyes and pets the side of his head softly. 

”Are you sure?” 

Cas nods eagerly and brings his hands up to touch Dean’s chest. 

”I want us,” he whispers, an echo of their earlier promise. Dean nods and kisses him again, before he pulls away completely. Cas whines a little at the loss of body heat and pressure, but Dean assures him that he will return as soon as possible. 

He leaves the bedroom at a half-sprint, still in boxers and his henley, and heads into the bathroom. Without turning on the lights he locates the bottom drawer, where he blindly rummages around until his fingers find a familiar bottle, and a condom somewhere next to it. His cock is painfully hard by now, and he palms himself with his free hand on the way back to the bedroom, where Cas lays naked and spread out like he belongs there. 

Dean puts the bottle of lube on the bed next to them, giving the condom to Cas to hold. 

”I’m gonna finger you first, stretch you out a bit. Alright?” Dean asks gingerly, waiting for the accepting nod before he opens the bottle and squirts some lube onto his fingers, coating it around as best as he can. 

”Are you comfortable on your back?”

”I want to see you,” is Cas’s response, which Dean doesn’t argue with. He guides Cas’s legs until they are spread wide, slightly bent at the knees, and Dean positions himself in between them. He leans forwards for a soft kiss, letting his hands run down Cas’s stomach and to his dick, pausing there briefly to jerk him off before he continues, pressing a thumb roughly against Cas’s perineum. Cas groans loudly and his back arches off the bed, pleasure evident on his face. 

Dean’s first finger circles Cas’s hole, and he massages the rim for a minute or so before he gently pushes it inside to the first knuckle. He has fingered Cas before, and even though he knows that with the amount of lube he’s using Cas is not feeling pain right now, he’s still careful to keep a close eye on his facial expression. 

He pushes on, reaching the second knuckle, and without stopping his finger is all the way inside Cas. It’s a strange feeling, his own pulse mixing with the fluttering sensation as Cas clenches around him, and he hooks his finger a little to get him used to the penetration. Cas’s breathing is heavy, but his face looks completely content and his eyes are hooded, the ghost of a smile etched on his lips. 

Dean pulls his finger out all the way and pushes it back inside a few times, before he adds a second lubed finger that Cas takes without reacting. Once he’s got both fingers buried to the hilt, he starts pressing down inside of him, marveling at the slick, smooth walls of his hole when Cas’s back suddenly arches up and he exhales sharply, legs clenching around Dean’s waist. With a smirk Dean presses down on the same bundle of nerves again, eliciting more and more desperate reactions every time he stimulates Cas’s prostate. 

”I swear to- _ugh_ -if you don’t want me to come you’ll _-shit_ -have to stop _doing that_ ,” Cas gasps, grabbing hold of Dean’s shoulders just to stabilize himself. Dean chuckles softly but complies, focusing on scissoring Cas open instead. During the stretching and twisting of his fingers, he adds a third one, and makes a cone-shape that he starts to slowly fuck Cas with, enjoying every soft moan that he lets out. 

Dean’s cock is still hard enough to tent his boxers, and he struggles to get them off with one hand while he continues to finger-fuck Cas. 

”Are you good?” he asks, pleased when Cas nods and squeezes his shoulder. ”Alright, I’m gonna use my cock instead now, if you still want it.”

” _Oh god_ yes, please, just fuck me,” he rambles, and whimpers a little as Dean abruptly pulls his fingers out. 

Working quickly, Dean tears the foil open and pulls out the condom, twisting it around a little until he can figure out which way to put it on. He then grabs the lube again and squirts a healthy amount into his hand, giving his cock a few strokes before he coats Cas’s fluttering hole with the remaining amount. 

”Tell me if I’m hurting you,” he says softly, and uses one hand to steer his cock into Cas’s waiting hole. 

He nudges at the entrance, a warning to Cas that he’s about to penetrate him, and then he pushes past the rim, feeling it give quite easily. Once the head of his dick is inside, he pauses, his whole body shaking from the restraint. 

”Still okay?” he rasps, and Cas replies by pulling him down for a kiss. Once it’s broken, Cas returns to just breathing, and Dean pushes in further, the tightness a mixture between painful and pleasurable, because Cas is clenching around him and it’s going to be too tight. 

”Relax,” Dean orders, reaching a hand up to the side of his face. He cards his fingers through his hair and massages his scalp, making soothing noises until he can feel Cas soften under his touch. He keeps pushing inside, easily sliding in due to the sheer amount of lube they’re using, but then Cas clenches around him again and he has to bite back the scream that threatens to leave his chest. 

”Talk to me,” Dean tries, running his hands up and down Cas’s sides to try to get him loose.

”’gimme a second,” Cas mumbles, eyes squeezed shut in concentration. 

”We don’t have to-”

”Shut up and just wait.”

Dean smiles a little and hangs his head down, trying to steady his breathing. It takes every ounce of his willpower to not slam into Cas and start fucking him already, which he can’t allow himself to do just yet. 

”I don’t know how to do this,” Cas frowns at last, opening his eyes just a sliver to look at Dean. ”Help me,” he whispers. It’s quiet and vulnerable and it tears itself into Dean’s heart, ruining it for future use. 

He swallows thickly and leans forwards, placing a soft kiss to Cas’s lips. When Cas hums against him appreciatively, he deepens it, prodding at his lips with his tongue and as he pushes inside his mouth, he mirrors the movement with his hips to get his cock in deeper. Cas moans loudly and Dean stills both the kiss and the penetration for a moment, before he repeats the process and presses his tongue deep into Cas’s mouth just as he bottoms out with a groan. 

”God, you’re big,” Cas stutters, sounding a little choked but there’s no pain in his eyes. 

”And you’re so tight, it feels so fucking good, baby,” Dean murmurs, kissing him breathless. They stay in that position for a few moments, Dean’s arms trembling as he holds himself up. Then Cas wriggles his hips a little, getting Dean deeper still and he laughs shortly. 

”You’re gonna be the death of me,” he scoffs, shifting a little until his balls are snug against Cas’s ass. 

”Okay, I’m good,” Cas rasps at last, wrapping his hands around Dean’s biceps and pressing down on his scars through the fabric. It grounds Dean for just a second, reminding him of how much Cas doesn’t know about him. 

However, it’s not something that they are going to talk about now. 

”I’m gonna start moving a little, tell me to stop if you need to,” Dean warns, and Cas barely has time to nod before he’s moaning softly as Dean pulls his hips back, going as far out as he can without actually pulling out, before he pushes in again, finding that there’s much less resistance this time. When Cas stays silent he pulls out again, cock dragging against his walls and all of the nerves in Dean’s body are begging at him to go faster, harder, but he has to be gentle. After quite a few slow thrusts he’s close to coming already, amazed at how this slow-motion fucking can be so stimulating. 

”Cas,” he grunts, bottoming out again and Cas clenches around him softly. 

”Harder,” is Cas’s only reply, and it nearly breaks Dean in two. He pulls out again, and on his next thrust he snaps his hips forwards, Cas’s entire body rocking with the force. With his next thrust Cas wraps a leg around his waist and helps him reach deeper inside, both of them gasping at the feeling. 

Dean starts picking up the pace, gradually going faster and harder, his entire body falling to pieces and he can only focus on this: on the sounds that Cas makes as he angles his hips and finds his prostate; on the burning feeling in his gut; on Cas clenching around him and stuttering incomprehensible words. 

”I’m gonna-” Cas stutters, and Dean gets one hand in between them and around Cas’s cock, giving it a few jerks and then Cas is coming, his whole body tensing up and the increased pressure around Dean is enough to send him over the edge too. He shoots his load inside the condom, vision blanking out momentarily. Some corner of his mind notices the wetness that spreads on his hand and stomach, but he’s so wrapped up in his orgasm that he can’t do anything but exist as Cas’s hole is milking him for all that he’s worth. 

Once he regains some sort of consciousness, Dean pulls out his limp cock and removes the condom,tying it up before tossing it to the side. He scoots down a little and finally collapses with his head on Cas’s chest and his arms folded up along Cas’s sides. 

”That was-” Cas starts, but he’s unable to finish the sentence. Dean grunts a laugh and snuggles his face into Cas’s bare skin. 

”I take back what I said earlier. _Now_ you’re officially not a virgin.” Cas doesn’t reply to that, but Dean just knows that he rolled his eyes. 

After a while in silence, Dean hears how Cas’s breathing changes as if he prepares to say something, and he waits it out. 

”Dean?” He hums to show that he’s listening, and Cas continues. ”I appreciate you being thorough with the condom and all, but it’s not like there’s going to be an unwanted pregnancy here.” 

”STD’s, Cas,” Dean mumbles, the thought of Abaddon hitting him again, but it’s easier to fend it off when Cas has his arms wrapped around him. 

”STD’s? But I’m a virgin, surely I couldn’t have any-”

”Yeah, Cas, this may have been you’re first rodeo but it sure wasn’t mine.” He bites the words out a little harsher than he had intended to, and regrets it the instant he can feel Cas tense up underneath him. 

”Dean, are you sick? Oh my- _oh my god_ , you’ve got HIV, don’t you? And I’ve been so annoyed with you because you wouldn’t let me give you a blowjob, and that’s why you didn’t right?”

”CAS!” Dean laughs, straightening up on his elbows to look him in the eye. ” _I’m alright_. I most likely don’t have anything, but I had sex with this chick that is a pretty big slut, to be honest, and we forgot to use a condom. I’m going to get tested before school starts up again, and then you’re free to give me all the blowjobs you want to.” 

Cas blushes deeply at Dean’s words, and he fumbles a little with the sleeves of Dean’s shirt. 

”Sorry,” he says, clearly apologizing for the outburst but it only increases Dean’s affection towards him. He continues to run his hands along the fabric, and Dean can see in his expression that he’s about to ask why they’re not both completely naked. Before he can speak he cuts him off with a look.

”That’s a story for another day,” he says gently, and Cas nods. ”Hey,” Dean continues, because his eyes just wandered to the clock on Cas’s nightstand and he can feel his lips crack into a smile. ”Happy new year,” he smiles, and a split second later the sky outside is exploding into colors. 

They wrap themselves up in blankets and go outside to the balcony to watch the fireworks. Cas kisses Dean and leans into him, blue eyes illuminated by the sparkling lights around them. 

”Happy new year.” 


	8. Best friends with my doubt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings!

Castiel returns to his family on January 1st, knowing that he’ll be questioned for why he wasn’t home for new year’s, which he honestly couldn’t care less about. He smiles to himself in the car, shifting a little in his seat just to feel the pleasurable burn in his ass. 

_Officially not a virgin_. On new year’s eve, out of all days. And with Dean, out of all people. 

And _good god_ had it felt good. Castiel is unsure if he’s ever going to be able to jerk himself off again, knowing how mind-blowing an orgasm can be, with the right stimuli. 

The car swirls on the road and Castiel quickly regains his focus. He berates himself (and especially his dick) for getting distracted, and steers his thoughts towards the history essay that he has to finish before Monday. 

Castiel spends the last days of the holiday at home, hanging out with Charlie a few times but mostly he stays in his room and studies. He wants to be ahead in all of his classes, since that will be the only way for him to keep his spirits up all the way to graduation. 

_Graduation_. Only five months left. And while Castiel is excited to move to San Francisco, he’s still unsure of how to get Dean to come with him. Because if there’s one thing he’s certain of, it is that he doesn’t want to go alone. 

The thoughts of college haunt Castiel night and day, and it so happens to be the thing on his mind during his first class of the semester: english. He staring lethargically out the window when a hand clasps his shoulder and a mouth breathes against his ear. 

”I’ve got news,” Dean grins, getting seated next to Castiel without asking him if it’s okay. He sits sideways on the chair, one arm rested on the desk and his legs spread out in front of him, his right knee pressed up against the side of Castiel’s thigh. Castiel tries not to focus too hard on the touch. 

”What?” Castiel replies, turning towards Dean and he can’t resist quirking his lips up into a smile. Dean looks good, his skin an even, tan shade and the lines under his eyes are gone. Castiel hopes this means that he’s been able to sleep. 

”Guess who’s qualified for blowjobs?” he smirks quietly, waggling his eyebrows seductively. Castiel can’t stop the laugh that bursts out, but he resists kissing Dean at the moment. They still haven’t discussed how public they want to be, and Castiel suspects that Dean is not too adamant about painting his sexuality on the walls of the school. It still amazes him though, that they have gone from not talking to each other to discussing _sex_ in no more than a few weeks. 

”Do you have any plans tonight?” Castiel asks innocently, and when he looks over at Dean the feral smile on his face is enough of an answer.

_I could get used to this,_ Castiel thinks. He all but tears his eyes off Dean when their teacher enters the classroom, and forces himself to not get lost in the heat that radiates off Dean’s body. 

”Today we’re starting a literary project, where you’ll all get to pick a book to read and…”

_Holy shit_ there’s a hand on Castiel’s dick. He straightens up immediately in his seat and is suddenly extremely aware of the rest of their classmates. Is anyone looking at them? And _damn it_ , why does he always pick a seat near the front? 

Castiel shifts in his seat because he actually really needs to listen to his teacher if he wants to stay ahead in his classes, but with the way Dean’s hand is slowly working at his growing erection it’s getting more and more difficult to focus. 

” _Dean,_ ” he breathes, casting him a desperate look. This is neither the appropriate place nor a good time for secret hand-jobs underneath the table, but Dean doesn’t seem to get that. Castiel doesn’t know what to do but he has to do _something_ , so he raises his hand and only when the teacher calls on him does Dean pulls his hand away, a slightly disappointed look on his face. 

”Yes, Novak?”

”May I please go to the bathroom?” he asks, and the teacher sighs deeply. Five minutes into the first lesson, and someone is already trying to bust out. 

”Of course. Go ahead,” she replies, waving at the door. Castiel scrambles to his feet and is immensely grateful for picking a pair of tight jeans today that effectively hide his boner. He makes it outside the classroom and shuts the door a little too forcefully, turning straight towards the bathroom stalls. Inside, he just heads to one of the sinks and bends down to wash his face with cold water to calm down. 

”That goes for you too,” he whispers to his dick, feeling it twitch in his pants. For a second he considers a quick jerk-off before returning, mostly to be able to even sit next to Dean, but before he can continue on that line of thought the door is opened and green eyes catch Castiel’s.

”I just couldn’t stand it, sitting so close to you and not being allowed to touch,” he sighs, and crosses the room to reach Castiel’s side. Before Castiel has time to reply, he’s being kissed like he’s never been kissed before, and Dean’s lips are soft and urgent against him and Castiel can’t refuse him. He moans into the kiss and tugs a soft laugh from Dean’s chest, clasping his fingers around his shirt and pulls him closer. 

”So, blowjob-qualification, huh?” he rasps. A knowing glint reaches Dean’s eyes, and he slides two fingers under the waistband of his boxers. 

”I’m qualified for everything, angel,” Dean replies, and it’s the cheesiest thing he’s ever said and it makes them burst out laughing. Dean maneuvers them into another kiss, and his lips soon trail south, working his way down Castiel’s body until he’s mouthing at the growing bulge between his legs. Castiel reaches down to unzip his pants, but Dean beats him to it, and before he knows it his cock bobs free. Dean gets comfortable on his knees, looking up at Castiel through thick lashes as he swallows him down without a warning. Castiel groans loudly and his hands find Dean’s hair, gripping it for all that he’s worth. 

”I thought-” Dean swirls his tongue around the head of his cock and Castiel stutters on his own words, ”I though I was going to be the one to give you a blowjob,” he finishes, and nearly regrets it because Dean laughs around him and the vibrations are driving him insane. Just like on his previous blowjob, one of Dean’s clever hand fondles Castiel’s balls, the other sliding between his cheeks and prodding at his hole. The sensations are completely overwhelming and soon Castiel is coming, grunting embarrassingly loudly but Dean only hums around him and swallows him down. 

”Oh my god,” Castiel breathes as he pulls off, and is immediately met by a kiss that tastes like _Dean,_ mixed with come. He’s starting to think about going back to class, but Dean refuses to leave his lips and only then does he realize that Dean is palming himself. 

”No, come here,” Castiel exclaims, roughly pushing Dean’s hand away and replacing it with his own. He cups Dean’s erection through the fabric of his jeans, enticing a groan that grows deeper as he finds his way into Dean’s boxers, giving his cock a few quick strokes and it’s all that it takes before Dean is coming. He ruts against Castiel’s hand, hips eventually slowing down and then he laughs breathlessly. 

”Dude, I just came in my pants,” he grins, wincing at the mess in his underwear. Castiel frowns a little but grabs a few hand towels, helping Dean clean up the come. ”I haven’t done that since, like, since I was a kid, this is _awesome._ ”

”Coming in your pants is awesome?” Castiel asks, not understanding what’s going through Dean’s head. 

”You’re awesome,” is his explanation, which doesn’t exactly help. Dean pulls him in for another kiss, making it difficult for Castiel to get him to speak. 

”I don’t understand,” he mumbles against Dean’s lips, and when Dean pulls away he’s afraid that he’s ruined the moment, but he’s only met by a tender smile. 

”It’s awesome that you can make me come in my pants. I’m completely gone on you, you fool.”

And if that doesn’t make Castiel’s lips draw up in a smile that makes his cheeks hurt, nothing will.

They get back to class, _eventually_ , stealing more kisses than they had time for and Castiel’s cheeks are flaming red as they reenter the classroom and find it empty, except for their teacher who looks up in confusion. 

”Did you have another question?” 

”No, uh, where did everyone go?” Dean asks, and Castiel is grateful that he doesn’t have to make a fool out of himself. _Damn it_ , he’s supposed to be a responsible student, not running off in the middle of class. 

”They went to the library to pick up some books to read, I gave you all the rest of the period to read on a location of your choosing. The assignments are right here,” she says, a little frown on her face when she notices that Castiel picks up an assignment sheet as well. ”Good luck!” she calls after them as they leave without another word. 

Dean seems completely at ease with what just went down, but Castiel can’t stop berating himself for disappointing his teacher. He’ll have to go apologize to her, come up with some excuse to-”

”Something messing with your head there?” Dean interrupts his thoughts, for which Castiel is grateful. He clears his throat and for some reason finds it difficult to look into Dean’s eyes when he speaks. 

”As much as I enjoyed what went down in the bathroom, we can’t keep doing that. Breaks, lunch period, sure, but we can’t make it a habit to slip away during the lessons. Especially not when you need to improve your grades.”

Dean stops dead in his tracks and scoffs an unamused laugh. ”’Improve my grades’, can you tell me where the hell this is coming from? Since when do you give a fuck about my grades?” 

”Please don’t curse at me,” Castiel winces, before he knows why it bothers him. Dean curses all the time, but this time it’s directed towards him, and for some reason that causes a lump to form in Castiel’s throat. Dean takes a forced breath and his expression turns neutral, however Castiel still sees the pain in his eyes. It’s that infuriating facade again, the one Dean pulls up when he doesn’t know what else to do. 

”I’m sorry I snapped at you. And I will minimize the blowjobs to the breaks and the lunch periods. Happy?” 

Castiel is not at all happy with the tone of Dean’s voice, but still he nods. ”Thank you.” 

-

That same evening, Castiel is in his room doing homework when his phone starts buzzing. He picks it up without checking the caller ID, and says, ”Castiel Novak.” He’s met by silence, followed by a little rustling sound and then he can hear distant voices. 

_”What the hell?”_ That’s Dean’s voice. Definitely. 

_”Dude, just talk to him. He’s waiting.”_ Sam, if Castiel isn’t mistaken, and he clears his throat to see if he can get either of them to actually pay attention to him. 

_”Hey, Cas, this is Sam. Dean’s being a pain in my ass so I was wondering if-”_

_”You son of a bitch, give me that!”_ Some more rustling passes through, and then a loud bang makes Castiel hold the phone away from his ear before the line falls silent again. 

”Dean?” he asks, and the sigh that follows makes his heart flutter in all the right ways. 

_”Heya, Cas. Sorry about that.”_

”It’s alright. Why are you bothering Sam?” 

” _Ugh, you know what? I’m gonna go kick his butt, just hold on one sec-”_

”Please be nice to your brother,” Castiel frowns, and he can almost hear the sarcastic eye-roll that Dean does. 

_”Fine,_ mom _. Jesus christ, I thought you had siblings of your own?”_

”None of whom I wish to strangle.” 

_”Bullshit, are you telling me you’ve never been angry with Gabe?”_

”I-” Castiel tries, but Dean’s got him stuck in a corner. He sighs deeply and rubs his neck. ”I’m not going to reply to that.” Dean’s triumphant laugh soothes something inside Castiel that he didn’t even know was hurting. They’re okay. 

” _Listen, the reason that Sam made me call you is, well, I’m sorry. About earlier today. You were just being kind and I fucked up as usual, and, well, yeah. Sorry.”_

”I forgive you, Dean,” Castiel smiles, because he does. 

” _And now Sam’s busting my ass because I may have told him that I’m failing some of my classes, and he’s threatened me with telling mom. So…”_

”So?” 

” _Will you help me?”_

Castiel doesn’t know why, but he’s grinning like a fool. 

” _Please, man, I’ll do anything. I’ll fucking drive to your house and we can do it there, and I’ll pay you in blowjobs, and I know that you’re super busy but-”_

”Of course I’ll help you.”

_”For real?”_

”Yes. For real.”

_”Awesome!”_ There’s that word again, and it makes Castiel think of Dean’s expression when he came in the bathroom. The pure bliss that for a split second took over his entire soul, allowing him to feel nothing but happiness. 

_”Cas, man, you still there?”_

”Yeah?”

_”Can I come over now?”_ Castiel momentarily pulls his phone away to check the clock, and shrugs to himself when he learns that it’s only five pm. 

”Sure. My parents are home, though, so be prepared for a Novak-attack.” 

_”Yeah, I think that one’s a bit overdue anyways. I’ll see you in ten!”_ he exclaims, and hangs up after Castiel has said a goodbye. He leaves his desk to shuffle into the living room, where his mother is sitting with a laptop perched on the armrest of the couch, his father watching a kid’s show with Anna. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, standing in the doorway where none of them can see him. 

”Dean’s coming over,” he bursts at last, and is immediately met by three pairs of curious eyes. 

”Dean Winchester?” his father asks, eyebrows raised high on his forehead. 

”We haven’t seen him in years!” his mother continues, and Castiel gives a nervous laugh. 

”Yeah, well, he’s coming. So, I don’t know, don’t be weird about it, okay?”

His father eyes him with a worried expression and tilts his head. 

”I don’t know what to think about this, Castiel. Not so long ago, you were talking about how he was ignoring you at school. And now you’re friends again?” 

”It’s alright, we’ve worked it out,” he lies. ”And he had a good reason, it’s just private.” 

”Okay. Good. If you trust him, we trust him,” his father says with a smile, his mother already focusing on her computer again. Castiel rolls his eyes at them all and saunters into the kitchen, opening the fridge a few times and taking a glass of water just to make the time pass. Anna joins him pretty suddenly, and prepares a glass of orange juice for herself. 

”I think it’s good that you and Dean are friends again,” she says, and it makes him smile even though he doesn’t know how she’s thinking. 

”Why is that?” 

”I think he’s the reason you’re happy.”

Castiel pulls her into a hug and nods to himself. Bless her, she knows Castiel better than he does. 

The doorbell suddenly rings, and Anna is sprinting away from Castiel before he can stop her. 

”Hello!” she shouts, and somehow manages to climb onto Dean’s back in the half minute it takes for Castiel to join them in the hallway. Dean’s got an easygoing grin on his face, and it actually looks genuine for once. When Dean takes a few steps towards him with a look in his eyes that Castiel is starting to recognize, Castiel backs away. The smile falters for a moment, but widens again when Anna tugs at his ear. 

”Into the living room,” she urges, and Dean navigates the house easily. Castiel follows him closely, and is surprised when both his parents get up to give Dean a hug. They cover the basic ’how have you been’-s and ’tell your family we said hi’-s, before Castiel can convince them that they need to go study, and _finally_ he has Dean for himself behind closed doors. He kisses him as soon as he’s close enough, and Dean actually whimpers softly at the touch. 

”I’ve missed you,” Castiel breathes once they’ve pulled apart. 

”It’s only been a couple of hours,” Dean replies with a fond smile that tells Castiel that he feels the same way. They kiss a little more before Dean clears his throat and takes a step back, insinuating that it’s time to get to business. 

”I’ve got an essay that’s due tomorrow, that I really really really need to finish.”

”Come on,” Castiel smiles, and pulls out the chair by his desk, pointing at it to make Dean sit down, telling him to get his books out while he fetches another chair. Once they’re seated next to each other, a little closer than strictly necessary, Dean shows Castiel the meagre progress that he’s made, along with the task itself and Castiel’s previous excitement shrinks away. 

”Dean, this is a ten-paged essay, and you’ve written one paragraph. When did you get this assignment?” 

”I don’t know, a few weeks ago? I’ve been busy-” Castiel gives him a tired look, and he corrects himself: ”I’m a great procrastinator, alright. But I’ve got you now, so we’ll kick this essay’s ass. Come on, help me out.” With a deep sigh Castiel pulls out his computer, hoping that he’s got some old essay in there that they can use as a template. 

It’s going to be a long night. 

Despite constantly telling Castiel otherwise, Dean is actually really clever. They find an essay that Castiel wrote not long ago, on the same subject: the mixture of different religions in the US. And instead of copying the entire text, Dean prefers to steal some of the background information and statistics, and forms his own opinions and conclusions, that actually differ slightly from Castiel’s. They end up discussing whether or not segregation really is a bad thing, and Dean’s viewpoint makes Castiel reconsider his earlier thesis. While Dean believes that integration is vital if they want to get over racism and xenophobia, he still thinks that it’s important to be allowed to stick to your traditions and not just re-mold yourself into someone that’s only one in a million. 

”Round pegs in round holes, that’s all we are. Maybe it’s good to throw in some stars and squares in the mix.” He says it like a joke, but Castiel hears the sincerity in his voice. 

A few hours and ten pages later, Dean hits the save button one last time and shuts his computer off. They high-five and laugh at themselves, and crash on Castiel’s bed. It’s a single bed, narrow and not even close to being as comfortable as Dean’s, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Castiel’s entire right side is pressed up close to Dean’s left to keep them from falling off, and Castiel decides that he doesn’t really mind either. It’s quiet. Sometimes some sound from the television in the living room slips through the door, other times it feels as if the world is holding its breath. 

”So, you still haven’t told them? You know…” Dean asks quietly, and Castiel closes his eyes. His family doesn’t know that he’s gay, they _still_ don’t know that he’s gay, because Castiel is a coward that doesn’t want to face the disappointment in his parents’ eyes. 

”My dad is a preacher. Sure, he seems like a laid-back guy, but deep down he still believes in the bible and heaven and hell. My homosexuality will grant me a one-way ticket downstairs, and I don’t think he would try to stop it.” 

”Cas-”

”It’s okay, really. I’m going to move soon, anyways, and they can find out on some birthday-party or christmas dinner ten years from now when I’ve got a husband and a kid and a cat.” 

”A cat?” Dean scoffs, and Castiel rolls to his side because he can’t refrain from looking at him any longer.

”A cat,” he repeats with a crooked smile. 

”One kid? I was thinking at least two,” Dean says then, and it makes Castiel’s heart stop for a second. When Dean meets his eyes, there’s nothing in them that says that he’s making fun of him. He’s open, raw and exposed, and it doesn’t last for more than a precious moment but it’s enough. Castiel kisses him gently, noses colliding and lips grazing along each other. They stay like that for what feels like an eternity, foreheads pressed together and breathing each other’s air. Dean is too close to Castiel to see properly, but the green in his eyes still shines through. And he’s so beautiful that Castiel’s chest aches. 

”I don’t want to hide anymore,” Castiel whispers, closing his eyes because he doesn’t want to see the inevitable anger on Dean’s face. When he speaks, however, his voice is soft. 

”Me neither. I want to kiss you during the lessons too, not just in some shitty bathroom when we’re on breaks.” 

”Will you be okay? I mean, showing people that you, you know-”

”That I swing both ways?” Dean shrugs a little, and Castiel feels hands on the back of his neck. ”Right now I only swing your way, angel. And I’m not afraid to show it.” 

”Good.” 

They kiss, and it grows a little too heated for Castiel’s comfort since his parents are on the other side of that door, but he muffles every groan against Dean’s lips and just hopes that they don’t hear anything. 


	9. I don't know what's inside of me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean is in a mood in the beginning, and he shuts himself in his room. Hopefully no triggers.
> 
> So I know I haven't been very active lately, but now I'm nearly finished with the next chapter so I'll update soon. Love y'all, thanks for commenting and leaving kudos xx

Dean throws the book he’s been reading into the wall and flinches when a picture-frame falls to the floor. He grabs a pillow instead, and swings it against the bed, again and again, feeling the fabric tear at his fingertips but he can’t stop. He looses his grip and the pillow is sent flying across the room, knocking something down with a loud bang but Dean doesn’t hear it, he’s already on his knees on the mattress, pounding it as hard as he can but it’s too soft, it doesn’t help. He clambers to the headboard and starts hitting it with closed fists, the clothed wood scraping at his skin. 

A sharp yip makes him turn his head towards the closed door, where the scratching of paws can be heard. 

”Leave me alone!” he yells, throat raw from all the screaming he has done already. 

He wants…He needs to cut himself. Yes, if he does that then maybe he will feel better. At least he won’t feel like _this_. 

His hands are bloody and shaking when he opens the door, where he’s immediately pushed back by Angel. 

”What are you doing? Get the hell out!” Dean snaps at her, and she cowers down a little, trying to make herself smaller. He can’t feel sorry for her right now, he can’t _feel_ anything at all except for the raging pain in his head. He roughly pushes the dog aside and heads for the bathroom, where he slams the door closed and starts to strip his clothes off.

He was fine, just minutes ago. He’d gotten off the phone with Cas after spending the last three hours just talking nonsense, and getting some help with an assignment. His family is off on a farmer’s market, which he gladly skipped with the excuse that he needed to do his homework. 

He was fine. 

And now he’s pulling out the razor and he cuts deep, deeper, carving at his skin and flesh and some part of him knows that he’s pushing it too far, but he can’t stop. 

The sound of scratching paws appears again, and just as Dean slices an inch-long line of red darkness, the door creaks open and suddenly Angel is licking the side of his face. 

Damn Cas for ruining the door. Dean hasn’t even thought about screwing it back together yet.

”Stop it,” he says weakly, but then he has to close his eyes against Angel’s wet tongue and he doesn’t mind it one bit. He drops the razor and reaches out for her fur, digging into it with his fingers and she lifts a paw that she places on his arm. 

He doesn’t know what to do. 

Seconds, minutes, hours later, he’s shut himself into his room. Angel tried to get inside, but he nearly threw her out the door and now he’s alone. He hasn’t decided whether he likes it or not yet. 

He’s on his side in bed, back facing the door and eyes glued to the wall. If he closes them, all he sees is himself. That goddamn voice that won’t shut up. 

Tires crunch against the gravel and soon two sets of barks get going, echoing around the house and Dean wants to shout at them to stop. He wonders if Angel is still lying outside his door. 

The sound of his family travels up the stairs, and even though he can’t distinguish any words he can hear the vibration of voices, his mother’s a bit lighter than the others. 

”Please, stay downstairs, please-” he mumbles, pinching his eyes shut when the staircase starts to creak. There’s a soft knock on his door that he doesn’t want to reply to.

”Hey, Angel, what are you doing out here? _Dean_?” It’s his mom, steady and tender and loving him so much even though he doesn’t know why. He can’t reply to her, though. He can’t look into her eyes when he’s just trashed his room and his body. 

She disappears soon enough, most likely figuring that he’s asleep. However, only a few minutes later there are new steps going up the stairs, and Dean knows that it’s Sam this time. And Sam never believes him when he’s pretending to sleep. 

”Dean, will you talk to me? Please?” 

_Nope_ , not gonna happen, sorry little brother. I’m not going to talk to you about my fucking thoughts. 

”I’ll just let Angel inside, okay?” 

The door creaks open, followed by the soft clatter of paws against floor, and Dean can hear Sam going down the stairs again. Angel opts to lie on the floor next to his bed instead of on it, next to him, and it hurts just a little bit. 

”I’m sorry,” he whispers. 

Time passes but Dean is indifferent to it, he can do nothing but stare into the empty space in front of him and just exist. If he starts thinking he’ll just pull himself into another dark mood, and he needs to avoid that for as long as possible. 

Something is wrong with him. He knows that, he’s not an idiot. He knows that not everyone spends their afternoons locked into their bathroom with blood dripping from their arms. That most people can handle _life_ without inflicting pain upon themselves.

Well, he’s not most people. If the world consists of round holes and mostly round pegs, he’s a fucking elephant. There’s simply no way he’s going to be normal. 

_And_ , success: he managed to drag his mind down into the dark abyss that is his thoughts once again. It hurts and his body aches with every breath that he takes, but for some reason he keeps going. For some reason, life is still the better option. 

”Can I come in?” a voice calls, and Dean can’t believe it but Cas is on his way into his room. His phone shows that the time is close to midnight, but the fact that they have school tomorrow doesn’t seem to bother his dark-haired friend, who enters without waiting for a reply.

”What the fuck are you doing here?” Dean grunts. He hasn’t used his voice in a few hours, and it still hurts from all the screaming he did earlier. Best not to think about that now, though.

”I want to be here,” is Cas’s reply, which doesn’t really answer Dean’s question but he doesn’t push it further. 

”Well I want to be alone. Get out.”

”Dean-”

”Are you deaf? Get the hell out of here.”

Cas goes quiet, but he doesn’t leave the room. Dean figures that he’ll have to live with that for now, and so he returns to his thoughts to try to put an end to them.

Something is different now, though. Something is distracting him, making it difficult for him to spiral into darkness.

Cas is in his room. 

Cas, with his angel blue eyes and tousled hair that Dean just needs to run his hands through. He feels like he should be mad at him, but he can’t find a single reason for it. The anger inside him ebbs and he lets out a deep breath.

”Come here,” he sighs at last, at war with his mind but at least he is still fighting. Cas waits for a moment before he complies, soft footsteps approaching and then the mattress dips as he crawls into bed. 

Dean waits for a kiss, an embrace, but Cas doesn’t touch him and Dean wonders whether it is because he doesn’t want to or because he has understood that he needs permission to do it. It frightens Dean when this should be the easiest thing in the world, and all at once he’s hyperventilating and he doesn’t know what he needs but he needs it now, he needs to do something to make him stop feeling this way and-

”Dean, may I touch you?”

”Oh god please, yes,” Dean gasps, and he rolls around into Cas’s arms. His t-shirt is soft and feels well-worn underneath Dean’s fingers, the smell of it completely intoxicating. He breathes it in and when the tears start falling he’s not even surprised.

”It’s okay,” Cas says quietly, his voice vibrating in the darkness. Dean tugs him closer and Cas’s hold tightens, squeezing him impossibly close and it almost hurts, but Dean needs it. He needs Cas.

”Don’t leave me,” Dean whispers, and he should be ashamed of how weak he is but right now he doesn’t give a damn. He is messed up and he doesn’t know how to hide it from Cas anymore. 

”I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere,” Cas soothes, his voice a soft rumble. 

 

When Dean wakes up he is surprised that he’s been asleep. And instead of the usual routine that is waking up - throwing himself out of bed with a strangled cry for help - he just sort of…wakes up. Opens his eyes and finds that the sun is shining in through his windows. It looks cold outside, the kind of cold that makes your face hurt.

He sighs contentedly and only then does he notice the weight on his body that is Castiel Novak. The realization brings a smile to his lips. 

Cas is snoring lightly, and every now and then he snuggles deeper into Dean’s chest. It’s completely intoxicating and Dean never wants it to stop, but they are running out of time. 

”Morning, gorgeous,” Dean murmurs, pressing a kiss to Cas’s forehead and it’s enough to get him to moan in protest. 

”It’s too early for morning,” he mumbles, and grabs at the blanket to pull it up further. 

”Nope, come on. Wake up. School starts in one hour.” 

”No school.”

”Cas, come on. You’re supposed to be the responsible one.” Dean is rewarded with an unamused snort of laughter and blue eyes that give him a tired look. 

”Since when?”

”Since you’re acing all of your classes. Now, come on. If you want to get to school on time, we have to get ready.” 

”No,” Cas groans. 

”Fine. Let’s stay here then,” Dean agrees with an eye-roll, and he scoots down on the bed until their faces are lined up. Dean wants to kiss him and talk nonsense, but apparently Cas has woken up now because he’s putting a hand on the side of Dean’s head with an unreadable expression on his face. 

”I wish you would tell me what’s going on inside that head.”

”Well it ain’t long division, I can tell you that.” Cas seems unfazed by Dean’s attempt at diverting the attention, which is both a bit annoying but also refreshing. 

”Sam called me and told me you couldn’t sleep.”

”That goddamn traitor,” Dean scoffs with a laugh, but once again Cas refuses to be led astray, so Dean continues, ”I don’t know what to tell you, man-”

”How about you tell me the truth! Have you gotten any sleep tonight?”

”Yes.”

”And Angel? Why did you kick her out?”

”I didn’t _kick_ -”

”Dean!” Cas breathes, and there’s something in the tone of his voice that tells Dean to stop. That maybe just this once, he should stop. He closes his eyes bashfully and wants to go back to sleep, but there’s no way he can do that now. 

”I’m sorry,” he whispers, feeling like he has apologized way too much already. Maybe Cas is the one person who deserves that, though. It takes a few minutes for them to clear the air between them, but soon enough Cas tries again. 

”Angel?”

”I don’t know. I couldn’t deal with her.”

”I don’t understand.” 

Dean shifts a little and inches closer to Cas, putting a hand against his chest. 

”It’s like she can tell when I’m upset, and then she refuses to leave my side. Most times I need it, but last night it was too much.” 

”Okay,” Cas breathes, and it makes Dean believe that maybe it is okay. He glances at the clock on his bedside table and groans when he learns that they really, really have to get up.

”Fifty minutes, Cas, and I need a shower. Do you want me to drive you home so you can get some new clothes? I mean, you could borrow some of mine but people would sort of notice and-”

”I brought clothes for today. But thank you.” Dean can feel the heat rising in his cheeks because _once again_ he’s been rambling and _once again_ Cas made him stop with that small, soft smile on his lips that drives Dean insane. 

”I’m just going to go.. Shower. I’ll go downstairs, so the one up here is free.” Without waiting for a response Dean grabs a shirt and a pair of jeans and nearly runs down the stairs, needing to get himself under control before he does something stupid, like suggest that they shower together. 

He can hear voices from the kitchen, but slips past unnoticed by everyone but Angel, who lifts her head from where she’s lying in the middle of the hallway. When she doesn’t immediately get up, Dean pats his leg twice and quietly calls her name, which spurs a reaction. She follows him into the bathroom and only when he’s locked the door does he kneel down and scruff her fur. 

”I’m sorry,” he says. She licks his hand. ”We good?” 

If only she could speak. The thought has hit Dean a hundred times, but never as hard as it does now. He’s told her everything, and maybe the reason that he trusts her so well is because she can’t repeat his words, but he wishes that she could talk to him. 

Now she just presses her body against him and looks up with kind eyes as he scratches her neck, knowing that she understands everything. 

”Now, go on, get out. I’d like to shower alone.” 

 

When Dean returns to his bedroom a while later, he finds Cas on the bed, fully dressed and hair still a little damp from his shower. He looks up from his phone and meets Dean’s eyes, and he’s breathtakingly beautiful. 

Three long strides later, Dean has pushed him down on the mattress and peppers him with kisses, placing them anywhere and everywhere he can reach. Cas chuckles softly and accepts the attack, only trying to put an end to it when Dean’s treacherous hands find their way to his ass. 

”Jesus christ, _Dean_. We don’t have- _oh_ -time for this,” he tries, letting out a loud moan as Dean presses their hips together. 

”Five minutes, I promise. We can eat breakfast in the car.” 

”We really don’t have five minutes, we should-” Cas’s words turn into a groan that is so obscure that Dean actually feels a little light-headed. He grinds his hips down again and entices another groan, deep and guttural and Dean just has to kiss him. He slots one leg in between Cas’s and all but humps his thigh, creating friction so intoxicating that he’s not sure that he’ll last five minutes. 

Cas speeds it all up by working on their pants, somehow shucking them down while Dean keeps grinding, until their cocks are freed and it’s almost too much. Dean grabs Cas’s right hand and steers it down to their crotches, where their fingers intertwine and they create a tunnel just wide enough for both of them to thrust into. It’s hot and messy and Dean nearly looses his breath from the intense kiss, and then Cas squeezes his hand tighter and Dean is coming undone. 

A hot stickiness spreads between them, making their hands slide around with an obscene sloppy noise that soon is followed by Cas’s moan as he comes too. They are both breathing heavily and neither of them wants to break away. 

”That was more like three minutes,” Cas mumbles at last, causing a wide grin to spread on Dean’s face. 

”Maybe four.” 

”Let’s go say hi to your parents.” 

They clean up as quickly as they can, only interrupted by a few kisses and Dean messing up Cas’s hair. When they finally reach the first floor and enter the kitchen, Dean realizes that he should have thought of an explanation as to why he’s not alone. Sam and his mom sit by the kitchen island, while John has a frying pan in his hand and is just putting some egg and bacon on a plate. 

”Morning, Dean, we were just wondering when you’d-” 

Mary falls silent as she first spots Cas, and then tilts her head when she recognizes him. Dean eyes her warily and clears his throat, needing to say _something_.

”Mom, dad, remember Cas?” 

The silence that follows is uncomfortable, to say the least, but Mary snaps out of it and finally offers a smile. 

”Castiel Novak, we haven’t seen you in ages! How are you?” 

And like that, it is as if they’ve travelled back six years to just another morning when Cas had breakfast with them. John tidies the kitchen with his back to them, listening to every word but opting to not say anything, while Mary and Cas catch up and Sam just watches them with an ear-splitting grin. And Dean takes it all in, drinks up his surroundings because right now, all he’s feeling is happiness. 

They eat breakfast in less than five minutes, brush their teeth and still have time to drive Sam to school as well. Once they’ve dropped him off, Dean turns the radio off for the last few minutes that are left. It’s 7:52, the ride to their school shouldn’t take more than three minutes. And there’s something that he needs to say. 

”Hey, um, I gotta ask something of you,” he gets out, and he can feel Cas watching him.

”What’s that?”

”I’ve been thinking about what I said to you, the other day. How I want to kiss you during the lessons too.”

”Which still is so inappropriate that I don’t even-”

”Hear me out, Cas. Please.” Cas falls quiet and it’s Dean’s queue to continue, but it’s so difficult to get the words out. 

”You want to kiss me at school?” Cas tries, and Dean nods. 

”I don’t want us to pretend anymore. I want everyone to know that you’re mine, and that I’m yours. I want to tell the truth.” 

A hand finds Dean’s upper arm and squeezes it gently. Dean wonders if Cas can feel the scars through the fabric. 

”I’m okay with it, if you’re okay with it. But be prepared for a Charlie-attack, she’s going to go crazy.”

”I think I can live with that.” 

They have somehow reached the parking lot already, and Dean finds a spot. Once the car is parked and locked and they stand side by side to go inside, Dean turns his gaze down to Cas’s hand. He can do this. _They_ can do this. 

In a moment of extreme courage, Dean takes Cas’s hand in his and steer them into the school building. People look, people whisper and stretch their necks to see properly, but Dean couldn’t care less. His fingers are warmed by Cas’s skin and he never wants to let go. 

It’s all surprisingly non-dramatic. Charlie cackles at them and takes a picture, which naturally makes Dean blush and hide in Cas’s neck, but then she gives him a hug and starts questioning him about Star Wars, and Dean discovers that she’s as much of a dork as he is. They keep the conversation going through lunch period, when Charlie invites him to eat with them and suddenly Dean is surrounded by kind, good people. Him and Cas sit next to each other, opposite from Charlie and Dorothy, and a few other guys whose names Dean can’t even pretend to remember. They let him in at once, start planning movie nights and parties and it’s overwhelming to be accepted like this. Cas simply smiles at him and pecks his lips every now and then, much to Charlie’s amusement. 

The day passes easily, and Dean can’t remember why he was ever worried about coming out to the school. The only thing it’s given him is more attention, and that he can easily swat away. It’s not much of a sacrifice since the reward is that he and Cas never have to stop touching. 

Only when their last class has ended and Dean and Cas head outside together does Dean feel something gnawing at the back of his head, something that he should remember. Was he supposed to pick Sam up from school? No, his brother is going to Jessica’s. Soccer practice? Not today. 

”Hey, Winchester,” a gruff voice shouts, and the blood in Dean’s body runs cold. 

_Gordon_.

”Hey, man, what are you up to?” Dean replies, wanting to get away but he has to talk to him now. He can’t just pretend like his old friends don’t exist anymore. 

”Crowley just told me that he hadn’t seen you all day, and I was thinking that you had to be home sick or something. Yet here I find you, with Novak out of all people. Would you care to explain?” 

”Listen, Gordon, we’re not friends. None of us are, we just drink and smoke and talk bullshit. So leave me alone.” 

”Leave you alone?”

He’s close now, too close for Dean’s comfort, but he has to endure it. The car is only a few hundred yards away, if they only keep walking towards it they can be gone soon. Cas is standing behind him, for which he is glad. Gordon probably wouldn’t take a swing at Dean, but Cas? 

”Yes, leave me alone. I don’t want anything to do with you, or Crowley, or Naomi, and especially not Abaddon.” The name brings some sort of finality to Dean’s statement, and it makes Gordon take a step back. However, the gleeful grin that spreads on his lips is not the yielding type that Dean would have wished for. 

”You know what, Abby told me about that party a while back, the one where you and Crowley supposedly got into a fight.”

”What about it?” Dean snaps, still backing away. He can see the Impala now, as clearly as he can feel the stress pounding from Cas. 

”The thing is, Crowley was with me the entire night. So it would have been difficult for you to be in a fight without me noticing it.”

”I don’t know what to tell you, man, I was drunk.” 

”Drunk enough to be overpowered by Abaddon?” 

”Dean-” Cas tries, but Dean can’t listen to him. Abaddon told them, of course she did. Of course Gordon knows about the failed attempt at having sex. 

”You haven’t told your boytoy here, have you? Did he ever see the bruises, Dean-o? The ones you got when Abby strangled you-”

Dean punches him, and it’s the most satisfying punch he’s ever delivered. He wants to hit him again, and again, but Cas is pulling at his arm and this is their only chance to get away. Gordon leans dumbly against a car, holding his hands in front of his face to stop the blood from flowing. 

There is something inside Dean that snaps then, and instead of charging like a bloodthirsty monster he feels inexplicably calm. He doesn’t need Crowley anymore, he’s strong enough and old enough to realize that. Slowly, he turns towards Cas and kisses him hungrily, because _this_ is what he needs. Love and true friends and people who care about him. Maybe then he’ll be okay. 

”Dean, what was that? What did Gordon mean by that?” 

Dean takes Cas’s hand and leads him to the car, and he puts his favorite Led Zeppelin-tape on and sings along to the music. He drives to the lake, to the empty parking lot that’s always full in the summers, and he turns the engine off. Cas is fuming next to him after being ignored for the past fifteen minutes, but Dean needed to pull himself together before he could do this. 

”There was this party at Gordon’s house a while back. A lot of people were there, as always, and everyone was drunk. As you know I don’t like it when people touch me without permission, so I usually end up drinking a lot too just to be able to be in crowded places. Anyways, I was getting bored and I ran into Abaddon, and, well…”

”You danced? Drank some more? Got into a fight? What?” Dean feels like laughing at the irritation in Cas’s voice, because it’s so sweet that he’s angry with Dean right now. He knows that it will change in just a few seconds. 

”We went to one of the bedrooms to have sex. Sorry, not what you wanted to hear, but it has happened more than once.” Thankfully, this actually renders Cas speechless, and Dean can continue before he changes his mind. 

”I thought I wanted to, at first, but I was really drunk. Like, _really_ drunk, and my self-control wasn’t really that high, so I was about to come and-”

”Not something I want to hear about!” Cas exclaims, but Dean just keeps going. 

”She wanted me to make her come first, and I tried so hard but it wasn’t enough, and so she started to choke me. At first it was just a warning, I guess, but then I couldn’t breathe at all and she just kept going until she was done. Then she left me there, pretty much passed out.”

Cas stares blankly at him, processing what he’d just been told. Dean finds it just a little difficult to sit there in silence, so he adds, ”That’s what Gordon was talking about. Me getting strangled and sort of raped. Which is why I prefer your company to theirs.” 

” _Dean_ ,” Cas sighs exasperatedly, surely wondering how he’s always able to try to be funny. Even when he’s revealing things that he could have Abaddon arrested for, he’s trying to lighten the mood. 

As he watches Cas think through his words, and undoubtedly the effect it may have had on Dean, Dean realizes that there’s something else that he needs to get off his chest. Something that he should have said a long time ago, and this time it burns in his chest. The thing with Abaddon is something that he has been able to drop, something that isn’t important anymore. But this…

This is about Cas. And he’s the most important thing there is. 

”I’m sorry,” he says suddenly.


	10. I'd die for you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some homophobia mixed with shitty parents. 
> 
> Thank you for READING, thank you for leaving KUDOS, thank you for COMMENTING xx

”I’m sorry,” Dean says again, and the sincerity behind it hits Castiel full force. ”I’m so sorry, Cas. I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am.”

They are in the Impala, and it’s starting to get dark outside. The lake stretches out in front of them, not much more than a shadow at this point. Castiel is still trying to wrap his head around the fact that Dean was raped by Abaddon and that he’s writing it off as a joke, and he’s finding it a little bit difficult to grasp that Dean is about to tell him more. After years of silence and secrets there are quite a lot of things that they need to sort out though. 

But this… The abrupt change in Dean’s voice is all Castiel needs to know what he’s about to say. He’s not apologizing for hitting Gordon. He’s not apologizing for lying about Abaddon. He’s not even apologizing for the countless times that he has broken down in Castiel’s arms. 

This runs deeper than that, and it pulls at the wound in Castiel’s chest that he thought had healed by now. 

”Dean-”

”Please, I have to tell you this. You deserve an explanation.”

”I can’t-”

”When we got home from graduating year six, there was this new family that had moved in and my dad knew that dad, and so he asked me to give their kid a tour of the city, and look after him in school.”

Castiel can’t hear this now, but he has no choice. 

”Crowley,” he breathes, knowing that it’s true but needing the confirmation anyway. 

”Crowley,” Dean nods. ”Can you believe that he was an even bigger dick back then? But I thought he was cool and he was from another country, and I couldn’t wait to introduce you two but when I started talking about you he just gained this _look_ , like every time I mentioned your name he grew bored and I was dying for him to like me, and-”

”It’s okay, Dean,” Castiel interrupts, but in vain. 

”The hell it is. He told me that because I was rich I needed to pick my friends carefully, and that he’d be a good choice. And- I believed him, Cas. I was just a kid.”

”It’s okay,” Castiel repeats. Dean doesn’t look so sure. 

”It’s not even remotely close to being okay. I was such an asshole, to you, my best - no, my only friend - and I’m so sorry. Things got really bad when we were in Italy that summer. Crowley and his family went there with us, and this one night I was really missing you so I was writing you a postcard, when he burst in and just tore it to bits, yelling at me to forget about you because he said you were nothing. And when I tried to tell him that you were my best friend he hit me.” 

”Dean,” Castiel says again. It’s the only word he can muster at the moment, brain short-circuited from what he’s hearing. 

”I know, should have told someone about it. Sam knew, of course he did, but I made him swear not to tell anyone. And the fool listened to me.” 

”It’s okay, Dean. We were just kids.”

” _I know_ that we were just kids, but it’s still not okay. Not a day goes by that I don’t regret what I did, but I was so wrapped up in my own lies that I couldn’t find a single way out. I thought I needed Crowley, I really did, and I was scared. And you had to pay for it, and I’m so, so sorry.”

”Dean,” Castiel whispers, and scoots closer. Their foreheads touch and Castiel needs him so much that it scares him. 

”I’m sorry.”

”You were my best friend,” Castiel tries, but his voice sort of brakes when he doesn’t want it to. 

”I know.”

”I thought I had done something. That you were angry with me, so I tried to change.” 

”I know, I saw it all happen.” 

”And you refused to talk to me, so eventually I gave up. And I became friends with Charlie.” 

”And I didn’t want to push my way back into your life when you were so happy.” 

”But I missed you. Every day.” 

They kiss, and Castiel should hate him but what he feels right now is the opposite of hate. 

”Then you came to me in the library-”

”Because I hadn’t seen you in so long and suddenly you were right there. I couldn’t resist,” Dean explains. 

”How did you know that I’d even talk to you?”

”Because you’re too kind. You’ve always been. And I knew that you’d see straight through me.”

Castiel pulls away only slightly, but it’s enough for the doubt to creep into Dean’s eyes. It hurts to see it there, because Castiel knows that Dean is hurting enough without having to question their relationship. He grabs his hand tightly, hoping that it can convince Dean that he’s not going anywhere. 

”Crowley hit you.”

”I was just a stupid kid who let myself get distracted by a new and exciting friend. And every day after that I’ve just been too much of a coward to apologize. But I’m trying now, I really am.” 

”You don’t have to apologize anymore, Dean. I forgive you. I forgave you when I kissed you outside our classroom. I forgave you when we had sex.”

Dean kisses him hungrily, his tears sticking to Castiel’s cheeks and no matter how tightly they hug it’s not close enough. Castiel wraps his arms around Dean’s neck and buries his face in him, pressing himself against Dean’s skin and there are arms around him too, so tight that he’s feeling a bit claustrophobic but it’s still not enough. Dean seems to think along the same lines, because he’s pushing closer and their heads slam together but it doesn’t hurt. 

”I need you,” Dean whimpers, a loud sob escaping. ”I’m so sorry, Cas, I’m so sorry,” he rambles, and Castiel needs him to stop. He furiously pulls at Dean’s shirt until he can get his hands underneath the fabric and splay his fingers across Dean’s back, digging his nails into the warm skin. Dean makes a strangled noise and pulls Castiel’s shirt up with his movements. They are sitting in the front seat of the Impala, all tangled up in each other until Dean lies down, pulling Castiel on top of him. Their lips lock and the desperation shudders through Dean’s body, enough to make Castiel slow down. It entices a frustrated moan and Castiel has to fight one back himself as Dean starts working on his belt. 

”I want you inside me,” he breathes, and it makes Castiel’s head flood with all kinds of emotions. He acts by grinding his hips down, where their growing erections meet and a groan is punched from Dean’s lungs. Castiel swats his hands away from his belt and unclasps it, getting the buttons to his pants undone as well and hurriedly pulls them down to his knees. Dean copies the action, and when nothing but a thin sheet of fabric separates their cocks Castiel thinks that he’s okay with coming like this. 

Dean seems to have other plans, however, because he visibly gains control of himself and wipes a hand across his face. 

”In the glove department, there’s some lube,” he mumbles, and Castiel instantly reaches behind him to locate it. He pulls out a book, a cell phone, some pieces of paper and a damn _water bottle_ before his fingers finally find the lube, and by then he’s afraid that Dean may have changed his mind. However as he returns his focus to the most beautiful human being in the entire world, Dean has pulled his boxers down as well and his cock stands proudly in between his legs. 

Castiel can’t help it, he bends down and swallows it down, bobbing his head along the shaft a few times just for fun. And the noises that Dean make are definitely worth it. 

”I have no idea what I’m doing,” Castiel admits once his mouth is no longer wrapped around Dean’s dick. If it had been anyone else Castiel would have been too ashamed to say anything, but with Dean he knows that he can always be honest. His words entice a small chuckle and Dean pulls him in for a kiss, working at Castiel’s boxers. 

”Why don’t you copy what we did last time? I’ll let you know if I need you to stop.” Castiel nods nervously and pops the bottle open, squirting some lube onto his fingers. He awkwardly reaches between Dean’s legs, past his cock and finds the little ring of muscle. While keeping a close eye on Dean’s expression, Cas coats the rim with lube and pushes at it, prodding until his index finger slips inside to the first knuckle. Dean looks focused but not distressed, so Castiel shuffles a bit to reach further, feeling the velvety smooth surface inside Dean. He gets the finger inside to the third knuckle and starts to press at the inner walls, remembering how good it had felt when Dean had found his prostate. When Dean suddenly clenches around him with a gasp, Castiel knows that he’s hit the right bundle of nerves. 

Dean takes first one finger, and then two, and when Castiel adds a third he’s a shaking mess. His fingernails are digging into Castiel’s scalp, but he couldn’t care less at the moment. 

”Gorgeous,” Castiel breathes, a bit of a mess himself from pulling Dean apart without paying any attention to his waning cock. 

”I’m ready, Cas.” 

Dean’s voice is hoarse and rough and drags across Castiel’s skin like molten lava, setting every inch of him on fire. He lubes up his free hand and gives his own cock a few strokes, making sure every inch of it is covered and the friction is just enough for it to perk up in interest. A sigh of emptiness leaves Dean’s chest when Castiel pulls his fingers out, but before he can do anything Dean interrupts him with a kiss.

”I just need you to know that I’ve never bottomed. You’re my first, Cas,” he whispers, eyes closed, chest heaving and legs pulled up to give better access. ”Fuck me,” he says, and Castiel really can’t refuse. 

He takes hold of Dean’s left thigh and uses it to steady himself while he guides his cock towards Dean’s waiting entrance, lining them up so the tip of his cock is just inside. Castiel can feel every muscle in Dean’s ass relax as he pushes in a little further, getting the head past the rim and it sort of lodges itself in place. 

”Uh, you good?” Castiel manages to ask, and gets nothing but a frantic nod in response. Castiel understands. He needs to start moving before they both burst. 

”Tell me to stop if you need-”

”Dear god, Cas, please just fuck me,” Dean exclaims, and it’s enough for Castiel to focus less on speaking and more on his dick that is on its way into Dean. Agonizingly slowly he pushes on, the amount of friction driving him insane. He bottoms out with a groan and meets Dean’s eyes, grounding himself in the green crystals. 

In that moment, Castiel just _knows_ that he will never love another human being the way he loves Dean. Because he is good. Pure, despite his flaws, and he’s all that Castiel ever wanted. 

After allowing them both to adjust, Castiel starts rocking his hips forwards, only pulling back slightly before he thrusts back inside. He makes sure to take his time, only allowing himself to move slowly, however at the end of each thrust he snaps his hips with force. The slow-motion fucking has Dean’s chest heaving, and he’s tossing his head back and forth with a word on his lips that he can’t quite get out. 

The desperation from earlier starts to return to Castiel, and he reaches a hand between them that he wraps around Dean’s cock, stroking it in time with every thrust and now he’s sinking, burying his face in the crook of Dean’s neck because he needs to be closer. Arms wrap around his back and fingers grab his ass, forcing him to go deeper, to give more. Castiel takes hold of one of Dean’s legs and keeps it locked in the hook of his arm, giving him a new angle to thrust into and Dean gasps, strings of incoherent words leaving his mouth. 

Castiel continues in his gentle rhythm, hitting Dean’s prostate with every thrust now, and he can feel the moment Dean is about to come because he suddenly clenches up around Castiel’s cock, creating a pressure so unbelievable that it drives Castiel over the edge as well. 

”I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Dean rambles, frantically pulling Castiel closer. His post-orgasm bliss has made all of his muscles useless, so he collapses on top of Dean and gets his arms around his body, holding him for all that he’s worth. 

”It’s okay,” Castiel soothes, tightening his grip because Dean is still not close enough. ”It’s okay.” 

”You should hate me. You have every right to hate me, you shouldn’t even want to talk to me. Please, I don’t understand. Please don’t leave me.” 

Castiel just holds him tighter still, forcing away the anxiety, the doubt. His spent cock is still inside Dean, his arms are pressing him closer and he’s got him completely surrounded, refusing to let go. 

 

_I love you, you fool_ , he thinks, but he can’t make himself say it. 

 

”Don’t leave me.”

_I’m not going to leave you._

 

 

It takes a while, but eventually they dare to let go of each other. Dean is the first to suggest it, giving off just the smallest hint that his ass feels like a giant bruise that doesn’t need the extra pressure of Castiel’s cock. It’s a blushing Castiel that pulls out, but he wipes them both clean with his t-shirt and makes sure all the come is removed. His knitted sweater is a little sticky against his skin without the shirt, but he’ll live. 

Dean doesn’t mention the silent, desperate pleas and apologies that he’d blurted out after their climax, and at the moment Castiel can’t bring it up again. 

_I love you_.

_You fool_.

He’s in love with Dean Winchester. 

He’s dropped off at home, after a few last kisses and touches. As Dean leaves, Castiel reminds himself to make sure that they study next time they meet. At the moment they both need it. 

Castiel heads inside with feather-light steps, dropping his bag on his bed before he takes the well-worn route to the kitchen. For a few minutes he observes the fridge, wondering if there’s something edible in there, before he settles for an apple. There’ll probably be dinner soon. With his teeth lodged around the fruit, he saunters into the living room only to find it empty, and snatches the remote from the sofa table, pleased to be in charge of it for once. As always there’s really not anything to see, but he settles for watching the news for a while. 

He’s not been sitting down for more than two minutes when the door to his father’s study is thrown open and anger seeps into the room. 

”Here I am, talking on the phone with a very important colleague when I spot a strangely familiar black car outside. Care to explain?”

Castiel feels like his heart has just stopped. He slowly puts the remains of the apple down on the table and holds his hands up in a placating gesture, wanting nothing more than to sink through the earth. 

”He just gave me a ride home.”

” _And_ , imagine my surprise when Anna tells me about how you two talk on the phone for _hours_ at a time. You never talk on the phone with any of your friends.” 

”Dad, what do you want me to say? He’s my friend, and I enjoy hanging out with him.” 

There’s a storm brewing in Chuck’s head, Castiel has suspected it for a while now, but he had never guessed that this would be the thing to make it break. 

”YOUR FRIEND? Since when do you spend hours on the phone with your friends?” 

”Dad-”

”AND since when do your friends drive you home? We need to talk about this, now, please.” 

Chuck grabs his wrist and pulls him to the kitchen table, where he unceremoniously sits him down. It takes no more than a pointing finger and a stern look for Castiel to know that he can choose between staying there and being grounded for the rest of his life. 

Becky joins them shortly, and with both of his parents watching him warily, Castiel starts to feel like maybe he should take this a bit more seriously than he is doing. Does he want to tell them? Up until now, he’s never given them any reason to even raise their voice. He feels like a spineless, coward of a teenager, but if he wanted a rebellion, this is as good as anything. 

”So…?” Chuck continues, and Castiel refuses to meet his gaze. 

_I’m in love with Dean Winchester. We just came back from having sex in his car._

”I don’t know what you want me to say.” 

”How about you tell us the truth? Why are you all of a sudden friends with Dean again? You two haven’t spoken for years.” 

”A misunderstanding, that we’ve worked out,” Castiel retorts, still wanting to keep this quiet. He wonders if Anna is home. 

”A misunderstanding? About what?”

”It’s…private,” Castiel tries, which makes Chuck throw his hands into the air. Thankfully, Becky steps in.

”We haven’t forgotten how sad you were when Dean started to ignore you all those years ago, we’re just not sure that it is a good idea to be friends with him anymore.”

Castiel can’t believe what he’s hearing. He is nineteen, _nineteen years old_ , and they are treating him like a child. 

”I want you to stop seeing him,” Chuck bites off, and in a split second Castiel has gotten to his feet. 

_I love you_. 

”I’m gay,” Castiel nearly shouts out, clearly interrupting his parents’ thought processes because suddenly they just look like two frozen statues. 

”I’m gay, and I guess that Dean is my boyfriend,” Castiel repeats, and his mother tilts her head slowly, as if Castiel is a puzzle that she needs to figure out.

”I don’t understand,” she says, and Castiel wants to laugh and cry and give them a book about homosexuality so they can at least _try_ to learn something. 

”I’m gay,” he says, with a shrug of his shoulders. 

”Get out,” Chuck mumbles, at first so quietly that Castiel can barely hear him. 

”What?”

”GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!”

”But dad-”

”You heard me! I will not tolerate having a-a-” he grinds his teeth together and fixes Castiel with a blank look. ”You are an abomination, and no son of mine. Get out.” 

Tears start prickling behind Castiel’s eyelids, not prepared for this amount of hatred from his father. 

”Mom?” 

His mother turns her head away, unable to face him. He feels dirty, like a ruined piece of furniture that is being thrown out of the house. 

”Where am I supposed to go?” he whispers, angrily wiping away the tears. 

”That’s not our problem anymore. You are eighteen, as you’ve pointed out quite a few times. Just get out of my sight.” 

How Castiel can even pack some clothes and other necessities with his blurred eyes is a mystery, but for now he’s just focused on leaving. He doesn’t deserve this kind of treatment. 

Teenage rebellion. Not so much fun. 

There’s only one place he wants to go right now, but he doesn’t dare to after what had just happened. Instead, he calls the one person who will always welcome him. 

”Queen of Moondoor, how can I be of service?” 


	11. I'll stay awake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I made Chuck into such an asshole, because I really really like him. Just... FYI. I don't hate Chuck. And I think that he would be very supportive actually. 
> 
> THANK YOU THANK YOU, EVERY COMMENT IS A BLESSING AND EVERY KUDO MAKES ME SMILE

Dean thought that he’d be able to sleep better after coming clean and telling Cas about Italy. He was wrong. 

Even though he’s got the brightness of his screen set to the lowest level, the phone’s light still hurts his eyes and he has to squint to see anything. He spends some time looking through his and Cas’s old texts, smiling at the memories. They have mostly gone over to messenger now, where there are copious amounts of ugly selfies and pictures of homework. 

_Homework_ , he’s got so many things that he needs to finish. English, history, biology, maths, the list never stops. He has to pass his classes, has to be better, has to study more before he fails everything. 

It’s still January, but only just. The days will pass in a blur, as they have a way of doing, and before he knows it it’ll be too late. 

Angel has forgiven him for shouting at her, and now she’s lying by his feet. Her head suddenly perks up and she gives him a long look and a soft woof. 

There’s something that he’s forgetting. Something he needs to do, something, something, always something-

Angel is suddenly towering above him, and before he can figure out what she’s doing she has lied down on his chest, a whine reaching his ears. 

_Breathe_. 

He takes a deep breath and his entire body shakes with the effort. Angel stays still. 

Inhale, exhale. Slowly. He has to stop breathing like he’s run a goddamn marathon. 

All at once he’s spiraling and trying to breathe and then something is vibrating.

The screen of his phone lights up and ”Castiel Novak” can be seen. 

**C: Are you awake?**

**D: yes**

The three little dots start jumping, and Dean focuses on them. Inhale, exhale. 

**C: By choice?**

It’s three am. Way to early for even Cas to get up, and Dean starts to wonder if maybe he’s not the only one who has too many things on his mind. 

**D: yes, I usually get up in the middle of the night**

**D: ofc not**

The three dots return, and Dean instantly re-reads his message, groaning at how angry it sounds. Sure, he’s a little cranky, but that’s not Cas’s fault. 

**C: Did you know that ants have wings?**

**D: no?**

**C: Neither did I.**

**C: Up until last night.**

**D: ?**

**C: Apparently they only have wings when they want to mate.**

**D: dude**

**D: hang on, did you cheat on me with an ant?**

**C: That would be highly impractical, and quite frankly, impossible.**

**D: good**

**C: I would never cheat on you, Dean.**

Dean doesn’t know quite how to reply to that, but he doesn’t want the conversation to die out. He types a few words, erases them, types them out again and nearly hits send before he panics and erases them once more. 

There are a million things that he would like to tell Cas, but at the moment none of them come to mind. 

**C: Are you still there?**

**D: yea**

**C: You really should try to get some sleep.**

**D: it’s not that easy**

**_incoming video call_ **

”Cas?” Dean’s voice cracks on the simple word. 

”Hello, Dean.”

Cas’s voice is barely more than a whisper, but still it burns through Dean’s body and mind. 

”Why are you calling me?”

”I thought I’d do something for you, if you promise not to laugh. And if you think that it won’t help, please tell me. I’m doing this for you.”

”What are you doing?”

”I’m going to sing.” 

”Oh,” is all that Dean can get out before he is surrounded by Cas’s gravel voice. He quickly grabs his headphones and plugs them in, so he can turn the volume up until his thoughts are drowned out by the soft words that Cas offers. 

_Friend, please remove your hands from over your eyes for me_

_I know you want to leave_

_But friend, please don’t take your life away from me_

The lyrics bring tears to Dean’s eyes, but he clings to them with all that he’s got. It’s so beautiful that it actually hurts. 

He never wants it to stop. 

For how long Cas keeps singing, Dean doesn’t know. All he knows is that he hasn’t slept properly in too long, and his body is finally catching up to him. 

_Friend, please_

He falls asleep to the sound of Castiel’s voice. 

 

Dean thinks that it will be awkward to face Cas after he sang him to sleep last night, but those thoughts vanish the instant they lock eyes in the hallway of school.

Cas’s eyes are red and watery, and he’s wearing the same dark blue sweater that he wore yesterday. Charlie and Dorothy are obviously talking to him, but he seems to have stopped listening to them because now he’s just watching Dean. 

It only takes four seconds for Dean to reach his side and stop the never-ending chatter. 

”Dean, please don’t-”

”What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

”I really don’t want to talk about it.” Dean cocks an eyebrow at that, and as Cas looks away he gives both Charlie and Dorothy questioning looks. Dorothy leans in to speak in his ear. 

”He called Charlie last night and asked if he could sleep at our place. We figured he just wanted to hang out, but he’s barely said a word, and he just keeps crying.” She shrugs when Dean faces her again, a worried line between her eyebrows. Charlie doesn’t seem to have any more information about the situation, so Dean does the only thing he can think about: he takes Cas’s hand and pulls him along to the nearest bathroom. A short blond kid is washing his hands by the sinks, but he only needs to take one look at Dean’s expression to run out of there at once. Dean locks the door and they are alone. 

”Talk to me, Cas,” he urges, and lifts his hands as if he wants to hug him. He doesn’t know whether or not he should, whether he is the only one who doesn’t like it when people touch him without warning, but Cas looks to be on the verge of breaking into two. They meet halfway, Cas nearly falling into Dean’s arms and Dean holds him, bringing one hand up to cradle his head. 

”It’s okay,” he says, hushing his loud sobs. It only takes one or two minutes for Cas to calm down and pull away, which surprises Dean who usually keeps at it for at least ten minutes. However he’s just a bit more messed up. Just a bit. 

”What happened?” Dean asks, because now he knows that something did happen. Something made Cas feel this way. He smiles bravely and exhales. 

”I told my parents that I’m gay. For you, specifically.” Dean’s eyebrows shoot up and he’s actually a bit surprised. 

”Whoah, okay. Wasn’t expecting that. I’m guessing that they didn’t take it very well?” Cas bites his lip and shakes his head, on the verge of tears again. 

”They kicked me out. Well, my dad kicked me out. My mom didn’t say a word. He called me an abomination, and said that he’s ashamed to be my father, and-”

”Hey, hey, breathe. They are assholes, okay? They don’t deserve you. I mean, your father is a fucking priest, I bet he thinks that this has something to do with god.” 

”He does, and I’m scared that he’s right. The bible says-”

”Screw the bible!” Dean takes his hands and places a kiss on each one, holding them against his lips for as long as he dares to. _I can’t lose you_. ”There is nothing wrong with you. With this. With _us_ ,” he says through a smile, and is relieved when Cas returns it. They kiss and it’s filled with desperation, tenderness and affection. 

”You should have called me, Cas, and you could have stayed at my house.” 

”I really don’t want to be a burden, I can stay with Charlie and-”

”-Dorothy who probably have it tough enough with money to pay for themselves. Come on, man, if there’s one thing I can offer you it’s money. My parents won’t mind, and if they do I’ll convince them otherwise. Come live with us, at least until you know what to do.” 

”You offer me so much more than money, Dean,” Cas frowns, but Dean already knows that that’s a yes. He holds his hand out as a question, and Cas answers by taking it. 

 

”Why aren’t you picking me up from school? Mom just called and said that Gabe’s coming for me, what’s wrong? Are you sick?” Dean can hear Anna’s voice through the phone, and it hurts to see the pain that flickers across Cas’s face. He clears his throat and explains, and Dean is amazed by the fact that he tells her the truth. Sure, she’s twelve years old and obviously not an idiot, but still. If it were him, Dean would never have had the guts to tell her.

”I’ll talk to you soon, okay? I love you,” Cas finishes, and lets his hand fall to his lap. 

_I love you_

Hearing those words in Cas’s voice tugs at something inside Dean, and it sort of hurts but he doesn’t want it to stop. 

Does he? Does he love Castiel? 

How can he love him when he hates himself? Loving someone means that that person loves you back to some extent, and Dean can’t wrap his mind around why anyone would love, let alone _like_ him. Not when he’s nothing but skin and bones and scars. Shaky hands and dark eyes. 

”Dean!” 

He straightens up the Impala, having headed towards the ditch for a second there. He just laughs at himself, but Cas looks honestly frightened. 

”Please, look at the road.” 

”I could drive blindfolded, don’t worry,” Dean chuckles. 

He hates that he turns everything into a joke. That he has this urge to make Cas laugh, thinking that it will make him feel better. If only he could stop for just one second and be himself. 

Not that he really knows who he is anymore.

”Do your parents know?” Cas says out of the blue. Dean casts a quick glance in his direction, and finds that the blue eyes are looking out the side window. If only Dean could see them. 

”That I’m gay?” 

The silence is the only confirmation that Dean needs.

”Sam knows, but he knows everything. I think my mom knows. You sleeping over might have convinced her. My dad probably knows as well, but he’s going to pretend that he doesn’t. Y’know, typical parents.”

_Stupid_ , why did he say that last bit? Now Cas probably thinks that he’s insensitive and-

”Your family is very kind,” Cas interrupts quietly. Dean can see him fiddling with his hands and he would kind of really like to hold them. 

”I dunno, I guess. They’re open to most things.”

”Including housing an eighteen-year old boy?”

”You’re not just anyone, okay? You’ve pretty much grown up in our house, you’re a part of our family. Come on, are you seriously doubting that my parents will let you stay?” He mumbles something back that Dean can’t make out, but he’s not entirely sure that he was supposed to hear it. Sometimes silence is the best action, so he takes one of Cas’s hands and grips it tight. 

_I need you_

Dean can’t stop thinking about love. The rest of the way home is spent in silence, both of them lost in thought. 

_I love you_

Is this love? Or just an overwhelming need, some primal part of his brain that understands that he needs Cas to stay alive. He can’t tell the difference, and it’s frustrating. 

With the Impala safely parked in the garage, Cas follows Dean into the house. The house that he used to barge into without asking. The house that was Cas’s home as much as it was Dean’s. 

The dogs greet them by the door, and it’s only then that Dean realizes that Cas hasn’t actually met them yet. He gestures at them to give them some space, and shares the names with Cas. Angel hangs back a little, like she always does. 

Once they’re out of their winter coats and shoes, Dean lets the dogs head outside for a while, and they continue into the house. 

”We’re home,” he shouts, and before long footsteps can be heard. Mary appears with a warm smile and kisses Dean on the cheek before she gives Cas a long hug. Dean notices how Cas’s fingers dig into her shirt and hides a smile. 

”Cas, why don’t you go to my room? I’ll be there in a minute,” Dean suggests, a bit surprised when Cas immediately agrees. He must really be wound up if he allows Dean to speak for him. 

”How has your day been, honey?” Mary asks, letting her hands rest on her hips. 

”Good, all good. Um, Cas needs to stay here for a while.”

”What? Why?”

”His parents kicked him out,” Dean explains, and Mary gasps and grits her teeth, a frown growing on her face. 

”What for? I could call and ask them to reconsider-”

”He told them that he’s gay. Remember that Chuck is a priest?” 

”Uh-uh, I remember. Good god. He can stay for as long as he needs to, make sure that he knows that. Until graduation, until he’s thirty years old. I don’t care. He’s family.” A swell of affection passes through Dean’s chest and he pulls her into a hug, punching a laugh from her chest. 

”Thank you, mom,” he whispers. 

She kisses his cheek and pushes him away. 

”Go cheer him up.”

She understands. He loves her so much for understanding.

Cas sits in the middle of the bed, legs crossed underneath him and his head resting in his hands. When Dean approaches him, he doesn’t look up. 

”Are you hungry? D’ya want something to drink? Or some ice cream?” 

”I’m fine.” 

”How about a hug?”

Cas actually smiles at that. Dean climbs into bed and sits behind him, so Cas can lean into his arms. And they stay there. For as long as they need to, because for once, time is all they’ve got. 


	12. I'm trying to sleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's long overdue, and I apologize for it... I'm starting to see the end of the story, but there are still quite a few chapters left before you are allowed to leave this story behind.
> 
> As always, thank you so so so so so much for reading and leaving kudos and commenting, you are the best xx

Castiel’s hands are clean. He’s washed them, several times, and he knows that they are clean but still he has the feeling that they are not.

There’s a smudge of blood on his left shoe. He reaches for it to wipe it off, even though he knows that it won’t work. The stain fades a little but is still visible. It could have come from some red dirt. 

His hands feel dirty. There’s nothing on them, they are spotless, and he has not done anything wrong to make him feel this way.

_”You’ll be okay darling. We’re almost at the hospital.”_

Mary’s voice still echoes in his head. John had driven so fast, way too fast, and Castiel had sat quietly in the front seat while Mary was in the back with her son in her arms.

A door opens and there she comes, blond hair a bit of a mess and red stains on her shirt. Castiel doesn’t want to see it. 

”Castiel,” she breathes when she sees him, and he gets to his feet.

”How is he?”

”He’ll be okay. He’s sleeping now, but the doctors will wake him up every now and then. He’s got a concussion and a few broken ribs, but other than that he’s alright. John will stay with him for a while.”

”I’m so sorry, Mary, I couldn’t stop them. Gordon held me back while the Alastair hit him, he was too strong.”

”It’s not your fault, I’m just glad that you were there,” Mary sighs, and sits down on the seat next to Castiel’s discarded one. There’s some blood on her jeans as well. She looks up at him and the lines between her eyebrows grow deeper.

”Did they hit you as well?” 

Castiel’s hand flies up to his right cheekbone, where he can feel a swelling. He winces at the pain, but still it’s not that bad.

”This is all my fault. If only we hadn’t been so public about our relationship, if we hadn’t rubbed it in Gordon’s face-”

”Dean is never going to hide from this. And neither should you, you have no reason to. This is Gordon’s problem, not yours.”

Castiel doesn’t dare to look into her eyes, because he’s afraid that he’ll find a lie there. His parents kicked him out. Only three days later he was attacked.

”Maybe this wasn’t meant to be. Maybe Dean and I shouldn’t-”

”Castiel, listen to me. Please, please don’t let this affect you. You can be angry and sad, but don’t doubt who you are because of what other people think. You are a wonderful man.”

He scoffs and shakes his head. 

”Castiel? I’m proud of you.”

”WHERE IS HE?”

”Here he comes,” Mary breathes, and her expression reveals that what she really needs right now is some peace and quiet. 

”I love him,” he reveals. Mary smiles at him, and when she smiles her entire face lights up.

”I know.”

”WHERE IS MY BROTHER?”

”Dean!” Castiel calls, and meets Dean halfway, to keep some distance between him and Mary.

”I NEED TO SEE HIM, NOW, CAS, I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL KILL THAT SON OF A BITCH-”

”Just wait, please, wait. DEAN, just wait! Wait!” Castiel raises his hands towards him but he doesn’t touch him, besides when Dean tries to push his way forwards again. ”Wait!” he repeats, and he doesn’t know how many times he says it before he finally sees the fight leave Dean’s eyes. 

”I have to see him,” he rasps, and it’s a broken sound but Castiel can’t fix it right now. 

”You will, just wait.” He cradles Dean’s head in his hands, wiping tears away with his thumbs. ”Just wait,” he whispers, and when Dean collapses he catches him in a hug. 

”Sonny was making us do extra laps because we were talking too much, that’s why I were late. If only I’d shut my mouth I would have been there, and-”

”It’s okay, Sam is fine. He has a concussion and some bruises, but nothing serious.”

Dean pulls away and scans Castiel’s body, obviously searching for injuries, and his eyes stop on his cheek. 

”I should have been there. They were after me.”

”Then it’s a good thing that you weren’t,” Castiel snaps, because he might be one of the most patient persons in the world but now he needs Dean to listen. ”The police are out looking for them as we speak, and they are on the top of the wanted lists in the state. They’ll be found, and then they’ll be punished. So don’t go out there looking for trouble.”

Dean rolls his eyes and snorts, clearly not agreeing with him. However, he has calmed down considerably and is in the right state of mind to see his brother. Castiel directs him to the door and opens it for him, letting him go inside. 

”I don’t know how you do it,” Mary sighs, as Castiel returns to sit by her side. She has her face buried in her hands, looking much smaller than Castiel has ever seen her.

”Do what?” he retorts, and she twists her head to look at him.

”Get him to calm down. Usually when he’s all riled up like that it takes ages before we can even talk to him. I sang to him when he was younger, but he won’t listen anymore. I don’t know what to do.” 

Castiel surprises both himself and Mary by giving her hand a squeeze, so he lets it go before it gets awkward.

”I sing to him sometimes,” he reveals, which makes Mary lighten up.

”Really?”

He nods, and starts wringing his hands again. They still feel dirty. Maybe he should wash them again.

”He told me that Sam puts some music on sometimes, and that it helps.” Mary nods in understanding and lets her head rest in her hands again. Castiel is dying to ask her things, to try to understand what happened to Dean to make him act this way, but he doesn’t know where to start. He just knows that it didn’t use to be like this. 

”Mary, I have to ask you-”

”Why he’s not in therapy? We’ve tried, several times. But each time he just ends up feeling worse. And I…”

”What?” 

She shakes her head almost violently, frustration seeping out of her.

”I don’t know what to do. It scares me. _He_ scares me. Don’t get me wrong, I love both my boys with all my heart, but sometimes it’s like I don’t know him at all.”

”Maybe you just need to talk to him about it?”

”Maybe.” 

”When did it- when did- I mean, he wasn’t like this when we were kids. What happened?” 

”Honestly? I don’t think that anything _happened_. You know that he was a bit different when we came home from Italy that summer, and I assume it is because of the Crowleys. They are a bit… Extreme, when it comes to certain things. Me and John don’t talk to them anymore, but Dean and their son Fergus have spent a lot of time together during the years. What really _happened_ was that he stopped talking to you and started hanging out with bad people. I suppose that’s had its effect on him.”

”I don’t know what to say to that.” 

”Then don’t say a thing, sweetheart. Just know that you are the best thing that has happened to him in a long time,” Mary says with a smile, and brings him in for a hug that makes the chair’s armrest dig into his side but he holds on for all that he’s worth. 

”I can’t thank you enough, Mary, for letting me into your house, into your family-”

”You’re family, Castiel. Even John thinks so, although he’s reluctant to admit it.”

”What do I think?” a low voice suddenly interrupts, and Castiel shoots up from his chair. 

John Winchester has that effect on people. 

”That Castiel can stay for as long as he likes,” Mary says, clearly putting in some emphasis in her words because John seems to shrink a little in front of them.

”Of course. Dean asked for you, Castiel.”

”Oh. Right,” he stutters, and steps around John towards the door to Sam’s room. ”Thank you. Both of you,” he blurts out, seeing nothing more than Mary’s smile and John’s frown before he has disappeared into the room. 

Dean is leaning against the windowsill, arms crossed in front of his chest and hands wrapped around his upper arms. He looks so vulnerable like this, especially with the tears lining his cheeks. Castiel is pretty sure that they are tears of anger though, when he sees the cold look in his eyes. 

”Dean, don’t-”

”I’m going to kill him, I swear to god. That fucking asshole, I’ll-”

Castiel surges forwards and kisses him, hoping that he’ll stop talking. He returns the kiss, but only for a split second before he breaks free. 

”I’m serious, babe, I’m not going to let this go.”

”And you shouldn’t. But the police will find them, and they will go to prison. Don’t-”

”What? Go looking for trouble?”

”Don’t try to play the hero! I want you safe, and not locked up because you wanted to seek revenge on your own. Use your head for one damn second.” 

Castiel doesn’t really know where the flash of anger erupted from, when he’s usually the one to stay calm through everything life hits him with. Now, though, he can barely hold himself back for screaming at Dean. 

”Right. ’Cause I’m just a stupid, ignorant brawler who will never be smart enough to graduate.”

”That’s not what I meant. This is ridiculous, why are we even fighting?”

”You tell me!” Dean hisses, and it actually makes Castiel take a step back. ”Tell me why we’re fighting, Cas. Because I know for damn sure that this would not have happened if you and me hadn’t shoved our fucking relationship up Gordon’s ass.” 

”Oh, and that’s my fault, is it? We both wanted to be able to go to school without having to hide.”

”Damn it, will you just fight back for one second! Why do you always have to be so fucking _nice_ , always trying to please everyone. Can’t you just be fucking mad about the fact that my _brother_ is in the hospital because you’re gay?” Dean nearly bites at the words, his teeth gritted so hard that his jaw looks dangerously close to busting. And Castiel wants to fight back, so badly, but just like Dean had pointed out he’s not quite sure on how to do that.

Might as well give it a try. 

”I’m gay for you, you assbutt!” he exclaims, and snorts out an angry breath that would have been accompanied by a cloud of steam if this had been a cartoon. 

It takes two seconds for Dean to start laughing. And when he finally does, it is as if the tension in the room seeps out with every round of laughter, his smile so contagious that Castiel can feel the corners of his lips start to twitch. 

”I’m glad I can be so amusing,” he mumbles, which just makes Dean laugh harder. 

” _Assbutt?_ That’s the best you can come up with? Oh my fucking god, you’re killing me.” 

”Please stop with all the noise,” a weak voice says, and the two of them turn towards Sam in an instant. His eyes are open just a crack, but there’s a soft smile on his lips. ”I just had a guy bash my brains in, don’t need you two to mess it up further.”

”Sammy, how are you feeling?” Dean asks, voice instantly tuned down and words spoken so softly that it sets something lose inside Castiel. His heart does a little flutter and he watches in admiration as Dean talks to his little brother. 

”I’m fine,” he says stubbornly, burrowing himself deeper into the bed. ”Can you two fight somewhere else?” 

”We’re not fighting,” Dean instantly replies, making both Castiel and Sam snort in protest.

”We’re fighting a little bit, but it’s okay,” Castiel tries, and actually succeeds in making Sam smile. 

”Then go blow of some steam, just not in here, please.”

”We will be quiet, Sam, don’t-”

”I actually think he’s talking about another kind of blowing, Cas,” Dean grins, and it makes Castiel’s cheeks heat up instantly. Is he ever going to think that this isn’t embarrassing?” 

”Please don’t pick the room next door,” Sam groans as Dean gets to his feet and takes Castiel’s hand. The hold is tight with desperation and still adoringly soft.

”Get some rest, brother dear,” Dean chuckles before he leads Castiel out into the hallway. Mary and John look up as they come out, Mary with a knowing smile and John with a confused frown. 

”What’s this supposed to mean?” he grunts, and Dean lifts their hands up a little as if he’s not sure John really is indicating their intertwined fingers.

”This? Just holding hands with my boyfriend, dad, no shame in that,” he says casually and leads them away before John can come up with a reply. On the search for an empty room, Castiel keeps his eyes on Dean. Dean, who just outright told his father that he is gay and that he and Castiel are a couple. 

Dean, who promised to take out his revenge on the ones who hurt his brother.

Dean, who can go from loud and angry to soft and gentle in a split second. 

Dean. 

”I’m sorry I got mad at you,” Castiel apologizes, but even now Dean just waves it off. 

”Probably not nearly as angry as I was at you. Don’t apologize, Cas.”

When Castiel finally tears his eyes from Dean to take in his surroundings, he finds that they are alone in a small room with two narrow bunk beds. Dean kisses him, and Castiel never wants him to stop. 

”Now, how about that blowjob?” Dean grins. 

 

Sam leaves the hospital in no more than two days, although he stays home from school for the rest of the week. He and Castiel spend some time explaining to Dean what had really happened, how Castiel had gone to pick up Anna when he’d seen Gordon and Alastair dragging Sam around the corner of the school building. Naturally, he’d followed them, and ended up getting beaten as well because of it. 

Whether Gordon’s motive was to get back at Dean for telling him off at school or something completely different is unknown, however the police have arrested both him and Alastair, who are now facing prison and community service. Dean is a bit upset to not be able to carry out his own revenge, but Castiel hopes that he will drop it. 

Before any of them know quite what is going on, it is April. Days and weeks blur together and Castiel spends most of his time in the library at school, studying, always studying. He tries to get Dean to join him every day, but often without success. Instead, they spend late nights together finishing various essays and tasks, much to Castiel’s annoyance. Time…passes, like it always does. And with it, Castiel grows more and more concerned about Dean’s health. 

It was just the little things at first, how he will wake both of them at night from his restless sleep, how he keeps eating but still loses weight instead of gaining it, how he can barely concentrate on schoolwork anymore. Most nights, Castiel has to help him write because his hands won’t stop shaking. 

He’s seen a doctor, even two, but neither of them could find any other cause than stress - which apparently is normal for a teenaged boy, and something that will go away on its own. Mary has tried to talk Dean into seeing a psychiatrist again, however without success. 

For now, all Castiel can do is slowly watch his boyfriend fade away. The only times he seems to be completely at peace with himself is after they have had sex, when his arms are wrapped around Castiel and their bodies are pressed against each other. In those moments, Castiel can’t hear a single lie in his voice. 

Castiel has not spoken to his parents in three months. He has tried, multiple times, and he has gone home to try to talk to them, but they never even as much as cast a glance in his direction. Anna and Gabriel are more supporting, and he tries to see them as often as he can. But for the time being, he is a part of the Winchester family. 

 

”Dean, Cas, time for breakfast. Get your lazy butts down here,” Sam’s voice calls from somewhere in the house, and Castiel wakes up with a start. His head is resting on Dean’s chest, and when he lifts it his neck cracks and pops in all the wrong ways. With a groan he shakes Dean’s shoulder and maneuvers his own body into a sitting position. 

”Dean,” he mumbles, his voice like gravel. 

”Mmm five ’ore minutes.” 

”I think we already had our five more minutes. It’s 7:35.”

”Damn it,” Dean sighs, but pulls the covers up even further. ”Why did we decide to fuck in the middle of the night again?” 

”Because I was awakened by someone humping my leg.”

”Right.” Dean sits up a little and blinks hard a few times. ”That’s a solid reason.”

”Come on, let’s go.” Castiel gives him a deep kiss that has them both wincing at the morning breaths, before he leaves for the bathroom. 

He still hasn’t seen Dean shirtless, and by now he has learned to respect it. One day, he will show him whatever it is that he is ashamed of. And Castiel doesn’t mind at all that he has to wait for it, because for him it is a promise that their relationship will not end in the near future. 

When Castiel returns to the bedroom he passes Dean on the way, and gets the daily ass-spank that he has gotten used to. He still jumps a little and tells Dean to cut it out, but it’s with a smile. 

Once he is back in the bedroom he opens the wardrobe to pull out some clothes, settling for jeans and a shirt. He frowns at his reflection’s messy hair but doesn’t try to correct it - he knows that it’s no use. 

In the kitchen, Sam is sitting on one of the chairs by the kitchen island, backpack already on his back and shoes put on. 

”I’m not going to be late because of you two. _Eat_ , and do so quickly. We leave in four minutes,” he mutters, and leaves without another word. 

”Someone woke up on the wrong side of bed,” Dean mutters and rolls his eyes, but he still speeds up a little when he grabs two bowls and two spoons while Castiel gets the cereal and milk. They eat facing each other, and they don’t talk, but the eye contact is all they need at the moment. 

”Boys, what are you still doing here?” Mary sighs as she enters the kitchen, giving them tired looks.

”We’re almost done!” Dean retorts, and puts another spoonful of cereal in his mouth. Mary frowns a little but starts preparing her own breakfast. 

”Don’t forget that college applications are closing this week, so make sure that everything is in order. Castiel, have you gotten the confirmation that this is your address now?”

”Yes, I got an e-mail last week. So it should be fine.”

”Good, I’m glad. Now, chop-chop! I’ll get the dishes, just make sure that your brother is on time!” Mary exclaims, and waves at them to leave. Dean gives her cheek a kiss goodbye, Castiel hugs her, and then they are jumping into their shoes and grabbing their backpacks. 

Sam still rides shotgun, which Castiel has insisted on more than once. He loves watching the brothers interact like they always have, and it gives him a moment to watch Dean without having any attention directed towards him. The two brothers have accepted that he doesn’t like to talk much in the car, although he wonders if they know that he’s listening to every word they say. 

”So when is Jess coming over again? It’s been a while since we saw her.”

”Since you _completely embarrassed me_ in front of her? It’ll probably take a while before I let her back into our house.”

”Come on, it wasn’t that bad! I just told her some funny shit from when you were little, chicks love that.” 

”For the last time, _Dean,_ she’s not a _chick_.” 

Castiel smiles to himself and studies Dean’s neck, memorizing every inch of it, every strand of hair that tickles his skin. He knows what it feels like to bury his fingers in Dean’s soft hair, and it takes a lot of resistance to not do it now. Not when he’s driving, Castiel reminds himself. 

He looks at Sam, a wide grin on his face and back at Dean, who drives with one elbow resting on the window sill. 

And he’s happy. He is so very happy to call these people his family. Gordon may have tried to split them, but the only thing he succeeded in was bringing them closer to each other. 


	13. Help me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry?
> 
> Warnings: um... yeah.. self-harm, basically. Quite a lot.

Dean sleeps better than he has in years when he has Cas beside him. There’s something about being wrapped up in another human being that soothes his chaotic mind, that makes him feel just a tiny bitless broken. 

And Cas, bless him, he is doing everything he can to please Dean. He helps him with homework, goes out of his way to see him in between classes at school, offers sex every goddamn night and all these little things just makes Dean feel like he doesn’t deserve him. Not when he can’t give anything back because he is far too busy keeping his mind at bay. 

Cas is asleep now, and Dean untangles himself from him. He stumbles to the bathroom, leaves the lights off and kneels in front of the toilet seat. 

Some nights he shoves two fingers into the back of his throat, some nights he is nauseous enough to throw up without having to induce it. 

He is well aware of the fact that he is losing weight, and rapidly so. His ribs are even starting to poke out. As he grabs his toothbrush to get the acid taste out of his mouth he catches a glimpse of himself in the reflection and has to put his hand over his lips to stop from screaming. He looks like a train wreck. 

_How did this happen?_

He holds back a wrecking sob and steadies himself on the sink. 

_You are nothing_

”Stop, stop, please just stop,” he whispers, rocking back and forth. 

_You’re going to die_

”I don’t want to die,” he continues. For once, it’s the truth. 

_You’re not strong enough_

”I’m not strong enough.” 

He’s not strong enough to stop himself from pulling out the razor and getting into the bathtub. He’s not strong enough to do anything but watch lethargically as he pinches it in between his thumb and index finger and slowly drags it across it skin. The blood that immediately comes to the surface should make him feel sick. Instead, he welcomes the sight. 

How long he stays in there, he doesn’t know. However when he return and sees Cas’s sleeping form in his large bed, it’s the first time he feels guilty for what he has done. For what he is _doing_. 

If only he knew how to make it stop. 

 

He gets a cold and stays home from school for nearly a week. It is as if his body is screaming at him to take it easy, to allow himself to heal. When he is home alone, there is no one there to stop him from cutting into his arms though. It starts getting so crowded that he returns to his thighs a few times, even though he knows that it’s a risk with how he and Cas never seem to stop fucking. 

 

Sam has recovered from the awful attack a few months back, and both Gordon and Alastair have been caught and arrested. Dean should feel at peace with it, but he can’t get the image of Cas’s bruised face and Sam’s body in a hospital bed. He and Castiel continue being open with their relationship at school, which thankfully isn’t the hot topic of the week anymore. The only one who still ’aww’s every time they kiss is Charlie. 

 

Thanks to Cas, it actually looks like he won’t fail a single class. He’s been adamant to turn in his homework and study for the tests, and it has actually paid off. It means less time spent with his old gang of friends, which has only been positive for him. Soccer gets a little bit less time as well, which he actually regrets, but right now it’s alright. He has even applied to a few colleges, even though he knows that he will never move away from Sam. Lawrence is the furthest he might consider going, and even now he’s leaning towards taking that job at Bobby’s.

 

All summed up, he should be happy. If not that, at least content. His life is pretty much in order, sure, he has a few difficult choices to make up ahead, but not worse than anyone else. Unfortunately, he is all but happy. Sure, there are times when he lies in bed next to Cas when it doesn’t feel like the world is crashing down around him, but those times are far too few and short-lived. What he mainly feels is anger, churning inside him with no way out. It makes him nauseous, short-tempered, and sometimes so riled up that the only way down is pain. And he knows that it’s wrong, he knows that he needs help, but he doesn’t know how to ask for it. He knows that he shouldn’t have to fight the voice inside his head, but he doesn’t know how to stop.

 

Then comes the day when Cas gets a thick envelope in the mailbox, stamped with the USFCA-logo. He nearly runs inside with it to where Dean is eating breakfast, and doesn’t even notice how Dean freezes up. 

_No_

”It’s from USFCA! Oh my god, Dean!” Cas exclaims, his hands trembling as he opens the envelope. His eyes quickly scan the contents, and he lets out a triumphant cheer. ”I got in! I actually got in! I’m going to San Francisco. I was accepted! I got in, Dean!”

Dean forces a smile and clears his throat, unsure if he still has his voice. ”I’m so happy for you,” he says, and sees the confusion in his boyfriend’s eyes. 

”Dean, don’t you see? This is perfect! We can go to California, and you can go to the police academy, and-”

”I’m not going,” Dean snaps. And Cas’s face falls from excited to devastated in the blink of an eye. 

They haven’t talked about this, not since Dean had a fit from trying to explain why he wanted to stay in Kansas. 

When it comes down to it, it’s all because of Sam. It’s completely unrealistic since both Mary and John take good care of him, but Dean can’t leave his brother behind. It has probably more to do with the fact that Dean doesn’t know how to function without him than the other way around. 

But _Cas._

_Shit_ , Cas is leaving. For real. He actually got accepted to USFCA, which Dean hadn’t doubted for one second, but he never considered that this moment actually would come. And that it would mean that Cas had to leave. 

_He is leaving you_. 

Dean can’t do this, not now. He can’t sit in front of Cas who is moving halfway across the country without Dean. 

Maybe this is it. Maybe this is when their story ends, when Cas goes away to become a successful high-paid scientist while Dean is stuck fixing cars for the rest of his life. He can’t see how this will work. Most of all, he can’t believe how blind he has been. 

Cas knew this all along. He knew that he was going to move to the west coast, and still he let them become close. He let Dean become dependent on him. 

He let him fall in love with him. 

And now he is leaving. 

”Dean? I’m going to Gabe’s café to meet him and Anna, remember? Do you want to join me?” 

Dean snaps out of it, wondering for how long Cas has been trying to talk to him. When he looks at him now, all he sees is a liar who was never going to stay with him. Cas knew that this day was coming. 

”I’ll stay here, tell them I said hi.”

There’s a blank space in his mind, because suddenly he is alone. 

He can’t breathe, he’s home alone and he wants to be touched, for the first time in his life he _wants to be touched_ , and there’s no one around. He needs someone to hold him and tell him that everything will be alright, he needs to feel that he’s real. That he’s not going to slip away.

But his family isn’t at home, and Angel is nowhere to be seen, and Cas is leaving. 

_Damn it_ , why won’t his lungs work? And why is he choking on air? 

_Sooner or later, everyone’s going to leave you_. 

He’s almost missed the voice, his voice, and now he welcomes it. 

_I know how you look into a mirror…and hate what you see._

”I am nothing.” 

_You are nothing_.

Dean is in the kitchen, he doesn’t know how he ended up there. 

_You’re going to die_.

Dying is just a part of life, right? Peaceful when all he’s ever known is suffering. He’s wearing a plaid shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The skin of his lower arms is untouched, unscarred, just smooth, pale skin, like a canvas that hasn’t been painted on yet. 

_Cas is leaving you_. 

_He doesn’t want you anymore._

_He doesn’t need you_. 

Dean finds the drawer where they keep the kitchen knives. He pulls one out with steady hands, twisting it around in his hands. It’s the one that his mother uses when she cuts carrots and potatoes, the one she and John got as a wedding gift. 

It’s sharp. He presses it against his thumb, and it burns through his skin. 

Some part of him reminds him that he has to be able to clean it up afterwards, can’t let his family see all that blood. He leans against the sink, knife in one hand and blank canvas held out in front of him. 

_You are nothing_. 

And he cuts. 

 

∞

 

When Castiel has parked Mary’s car outside Gabe’s café, he just knows that something is wrong. That dark look had taken over Dean’s eyes, shutting him off completely, and now he doesn’t know what to do. 

Maybe he shouldn’t have left him, maybe…

Maybe he needs some time alone? That is usually how it is with Dean, sometimes he needs space, sometimes he needs company. When Castiel gets it wrong, there is always hell to pay. 

USFCA.

Castiel can hardly believe it. Finally, _finally_ he gets to leave this place that he has called home for so long, and start anew. Away from his homophobic parents. Away from the bullies at school. 

Away from his friends, and his siblings. That’s the hardest part. 

Away from _Dean_. 

Suddenly, it’s as if all the wires in Castiel’s brain finally connect to each other and he realizes, with a start, that leaving Dean was the worst thing he could have done. He glances at the clock, noticing that Dean has been alone for fifteen minutes already, and curses under his breath. Quickly he pulls out his phone and locates Sam’s number. 

_”This is Sam.”_

”Sam, Castiel here. Are you home?” 

” _No, I’m at Jessica’s actually, why?”_

”Right, right, I knew that. Damn it. I just told Dean that I got accepted to USFCA.”

_”That’s amazing, Cas, congratulations! I bet Dean was so proud of you.”_

”I’m moving 2000 miles away. He was not thrilled about that, and I’m worried about him. Are your parents home?” 

_”No, they’ll be at Bobby’ all night, remember? And they brought the dogs, there’s no one home.”_ Castiel starts pacing the hallway, wondering if he’s overreacting. Dean’s gotten upset with him more than once, and he’s always gotten over it. 

However, something feels different this time. Because Dean didn’t shout at him, he just smiled stiffly and let him leave without a single word. 

”Have you ever seen Dean without a shirt on?” 

_”Dude, ew. He’s my brother.”_

”I’m serious.”

_”Uh, not in a few years? But I’m sure whatever offensive tattoo he’s got is something he can explain.”_

”He’s never been shirtless with me. Never. When I try to take it off-”

_”Cas, I don’t want to hear about my naked brother.”_

”-he always asks me not to. Once he told me that it was a story for another day, but we’ve never gotten there. I just figured that he was self-conscious about his weight or something.” Sam snorts and his voice hasn’t yet reached the worried tone that Castiel can hear in himself. 

_”Dean’s always been a skinny guy. If you’re telling me that he has an eating disorder-”_

”Sam, that’s not at all what I’m saying. I’m saying that when I left Dean he had a dark look on his face and I’m worried that he’s going to hurt himself.” 

There. He finally said it. He finally shared the fear that’s been eating away at him for months, the thing that’s been bothering him every time he and Dean have sex, every time Dean clasps his hands around his upper arms. The arms that Castiel has never seen naked. 

_”Shit_ ,” Sam says eventually. Castiel doesn’t know if he wants to laugh because he’s not alone in this anymore, or cry because Sam doesn’t find his suspicions as crazy as they should be. 

_”Shit, shit, shit, I’m at the other end of town, it’ll take me thirty minutes to get home.”_

Castiel immediately turns the engine on and backs out of the parking lot. 

”I’m already on my way. It’ll take me fifteen minutes or so.”

_”Shit,”_ Sam says again, and Castiel considers asking him not to curse. He’s only fifteen, after all. 

Sam ends the call, telling Castiel that he’s asked Jessica’s parents to drive them home and that he’s going to get a hold of his parents. The silence leaves Castiel alone with his thoughts, and he can’t help but think back on New Year’s eve, months ago now, when Sam had asked him to check on Dean. When he’d found Dean passed out on the floor of his bathroom, drunk and hungover at the same time. For some reason, Castiel doesn’t think that Dean is going to retort to alcohol this time.

He leaves the car door open and runs up the stairs to the house. His instinct tells him to check Dean’s room first, because that’s the place where he _wants_ to find him. He wants Dean to be on his back in the middle of the bed, headphones plugged in and a song playing so loudly that he won’t hear Castiel entering the room. He won’t know that Castiel is there until he has crawled on top of him and kissed him breathless. 

But the room is empty. Castiel can feel it when he enters it, he can feel the lack of Dean’s presence. The same goes for the bathroom, the lock not even fixed from the last time Castiel burst inside. He checks the storage rooms just to make sure, and then returns to the first floor where he searches the living room, Sam’s bedroom and even John and Mary’s. 

Nothing. 

The house is empty. 

Castiel calls Sam again, relieved when he picks up on the second ring. 

”I can’t find him anywhere,” Castiel says by way of greeting, and runs his free hand through his hair. Maybe Dean didn’t even go home, maybe he went to a friend’s place to get drunk. Maybe Crowley, because even though he and Dean aren’t friends anymore they still have some weird connection that Castiel doesn’t even want to begin to understand.

_”Have you checked the garage? Maybe he’s in the Impala?”_

Of course. 

_Of course_ , that’s where Dean will be. In his baby, the car that smells like leather and rock music and the only place where Dean feels completely at home. 

Castiel is already halfway out the door when he suddenly feels a shiver along his spine, and just as he knew that Dean’s bedroom was empty, he knows that Dean is somewhere near him now. He slowly treads back inside and eyes the kitchen. It’s empty, lights out and fridge closed. With a frown Castiel steps closer, the sound of dripping water hitting his ears. 

_”What is it, Cas? Did you find him?”_ Sam asks, as Castiel makes his way towards the sink with the dripping faucet. 

”Not yet, just hold on. Someone didn’t turn off the water completely.” 

As he makes his way closer to the sink, Castiel spots dark stains on the formerly spotless porcelain. He frowns a little and reaches for the light switch, and his heart falls out of his chest when the stain turns red. 

He drops the phone, drops everything, and all but runs around the kitchen island. The sight that meets him is enough to make his heart stop for a few seconds.

Dean is on his back in a puddle of blood. _His_ blood, Castiel realizes, because the puddle is growing with every second, and it doesn’t take too long to find the source. A knife lies just beside Dean’s left hand, looking like someone’s dipped it in red paint. Castiel has to hold his breath to keep from retching, the smell of blood so heavy that it makes him nauseous. 

But his _arms_ , Dean’s arms are worse than anything that Castiel has ever seen. On the inside of each arm is a straight line, two gaping wounds at least five inches long and way too deep, and blood is pulsating out of them. 

And it _hurts_. Castiel’s body actually aches when he sees Dean like this, knowing that he’s inflicted the pain upon himself. That Dean probably has been hurting all this time, but that he’s been hiding it from everyone. After allowing himself a few moments to just take in the scene, Castiel spurs into action. He unclasps his belt and takes his shirt off, kneeling next to Dean, his pants getting soaked in blood but he can’t care about that now. With shaking hands he wraps his shirt tightly around Dean’s right arm, then takes his belt and uses it to strap the fabric in place. He’s worried that he’s pulling too tight, but blood is already seeping through and he realizes that he has to make it stop. 

Trembling hands undo Dean’s belt as well, and for his left arm Castiel uses a kitchen towel to still the blood-flow. He doesn’t know how much it helps, but he hopes that he’s not making things worse. 

He needs to call an ambulance, he needs help, but his hands are covered in blood and he holds them dumbly in front of his face, staring at the redness as if he can make it disappear with sheer will force. 

” _CAS!”_ he hears, and realizes that his call with Sam is still connected. He’s not alone, he has Sam, and the thought strengthens him enough to give him his voice back. 

”Call an ambulance,” he gasps. 


	14. I'm no good without you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So basically we follow Dean through patient records and Cas through letters. I hope it's not too confusing for you!

Dean wakes up disoriented, but smiles when the first thing he sees is Cas. Cas does not smile back, however, he doesn’t even look at Dean, because he’s busy talking to his family. Dean frowns as he sees their troubled faces, and tries to sit up but his body weighs a tonne. 

”What’s going on?” he barks, effectively gaining their attention. Cas’s head is the first to snap in his direction, which pleases him. He gets a gnawing feeling that he’s supposed to be angry with Cas, but he can’t remember why. 

”Thank god, you’re awake,” his mother exhales, and approaches the bed. She tentatively sits on the edge of it, but doesn’t reach out for Dean, doesn’t take his hand, she doesn’t touch him. He looks up into Sam’s tear-filled eyes, over to Cas’s equally red ones, and over to his dad, who looks at least ten years older with a heavy stubble and dark circles underneath his eyes. 

Only then does Dean take the time to look around the room, white, plain walls surrounding them and light blue sheets covering his lower body. A constant beeping hits his eardrums, and he turns his head towards the machines standing to his left. 

And he remembers. He remembers that Cas was leaving and that his mind wouldn’t stop harassing him, that his reflection was screaming at him to fucking do something already because he is _nothing_. 

Now, all he feels is numbness as his eyes land on the bandages on his forearms. He’d cut himself, deep. Way too deep. He hadn’t even used a razor, he’d picked up a goddamn knife from the kitchen. 

He stares dumbly at his arms, not feeling even the slightest urge to cut himself now, because his mind is at peace for once. 

While Dean took in his surroundings, Cas sat down beside him and now he’s only inches away, but he won’t touch him either. 

”Why won’t you touch me?” Dean blurts, wondering why he’s asking at all yet at the same time his eyes are flickering from Cas to his mom. 

”May we touch you?” his mom asks, and when he nods uncertainly she immediately latches on to his hand, Cas mirroring the movement on his other side. While his mother shakily leans forwards, resting her head on Dean’s chest, Cas just squeezes his hand for all that he’s worth and Dean is completely bewildered by their reactions. 

Sam stands close to their dad, who holds an arm around his shoulders and is smiling weakly. And Dean doesn’t know why, but all of a sudden he is angry. 

”What the hell is going on? Do I have cancer or something? Did they amputate my legs? Will someone tell me what’s going on?”

”Dean,” Cas tries, but his voice breaks on his name. 

”You have bandages around your arms, Dean. I’m sure you know why,” John says softly, for once not challenging him. 

”I don’t know what you’re-”

”Cas found you in the kitchen with a knife next to you on the floor and blood everywhere,” Sam explains. ”You lost a lot of blood, and you’ve been unconscious for two days.”

”I don’t-” Dean tries again, but then he meets Cas’s gaze and all the fight in him crumbles. He leans back in the bed heavily, the weight of his mom still reassuring on his chest. 

”I’m sorry,” he whispers with a squeeze of Cas’s hand. Cas just closes his eyes through his tears and bends down to press a kiss to his hand. 

”This has to stop, Dean,” his mom mumbles, slowly straightening up. ”We’ve seen your arms. You nearly killed yourself. This has to end.”

”It will end, mom, I promise. It won’t happen again.”

”You’re being sent to therapy,” Cas says, and it’s the first complete sentence leaving his mouth. Dean just stares at him, like a deer in headlights, and shakes his head. 

”No, there’s no need for that, I promise. I’ll stop. I wont do it again.” 

”We can’t know that, not for sure. Don’t you understand that we’ll all feel safer this way?” his mom continues, and he wants to sink through the ground. 

_Therapy_. 

”Hey,” Sam calls softly, gaining Dean’s attention. ”Maybe you’ll like it. We met the doctor, she seems nice. Please, Dean,” he says, the unspoken words completely clear to Dean. 

_Please don’t leave me_. 

”For how long?” he asks, because he has to listen to Sam. He’s not going to leave him. 

”Until she clears you. It depends on the progress you make.” 

”And will I- I mean, I’ll still live at home, right? I could work at Bobby’s, at least a few days a-”

”You’re going to be living at a care home. With people who can take good care of you.”

”I still don’t think that-” Cas tries, but he’s immediately interrupted. 

”Castiel, we’ve had this discussion already. No need to bring it up again,” John snaps, but it’s not nearly as angry as Dean is used to. 

”What have you discussed?” Dean asks, because there’s a look in Cas’s eyes that he can’t put his finger on. 

”I’ve offered to stay at home with you and look after you, drive you to the appointments and all of that. So that you won’t have to live in a mental institute.” He says the last few words bitterly, making Dean understand that he at least has one ally in this fight. 

The fact that Cas is the reason he cut himself in the first place doesn’t come to mind at all. At least not until Cas lowers his gaze and his grip falters slightly. Dean desperately grasps his hand harder. 

”But I realize now that that’s not going to work. It’s my fault that you’re here. And I understand that you have to work through some things on your own, without having me trailing you like a ghost.”

”Cas, please-”

”I’m so sorry, Dean. But I’m going to California. You just focus on getting better, alright?” 

Dean can feel his breaths coming out in short bursts, his lungs trembling from the effort. 

_Cas is leaving._

_He’s leaving you._

_He doesn’t want you._

_He doesn’t need you anymore._

But he’s still holding his hand and he refuses to let go. Cas doesn’t try to pull away, even when Dean’s grip turns painfully tight. 

”Please don’t leave me,” he whispers, and from the corner of his eye he can see his mom turn her head away. Even Sam and John are looking down, sensing the uncomfortable pain that surges through the room. 

Cas’s eyes are blue, the bluest Dean has ever seen. They never leave Dean’s, even as his long, slender fingers cradle his head and his thumbs rub across Dean’s cheekbones. 

”I’m not going to leave you, not ever. I’m just going away for a while. If you still want me when you feel better, you’ll know where to find me.” He leans in and kisses Dean with enough force to take his breath away. ”I love you,” he whispers into his ear as he pulls away. 

And then he’s gone. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Patient: Dean Winchester (DW)

Date of Birth: Jan 24th, 1979

Date: May 2nd, 1998

Session nr: 1

Psychiatrist: Dr Bela Talbot (BT)

BT: Hello, Dean. I'm Dr Bela Talbot, please call me Bela.

[ no answer ]

BT: Hello, Dean. I'm-

DW: I'm not deaf.

BT: Of course not, my apologies. How are you Dean?

[ no answer ]

BT: I'm going to be your doctor while you are here, Dean. And if you want to get better, it is crucial that you trust me and open up to me. I want to get you out of here, but I can't clear you until you are no longer a danger to yourself.

DW: Dr Talbot?

BT: Yes?

DW: Go fuck yourself.

 

∞

 

To: Eve Novak

1800 Crystal Terrace

Miami FL

33133

From: Castiel Novak

Lake Front Residence

Burlington KS

66067

Dear grandmother,

I am writing to invite you to my graduation ceremony that takes place May 30th, at 2pm on Burlington High School. I would love for you to be there to celebrate with me. 

Love, 

Castiel

 

∞

 

Patient: Dean Winchester

Date of Birth: Jan 24th, 1979

Date: May 4th, 1998

Session nr: 2

Psychiatrist: Dr Bela Talbot

BT: Good morning, Dean. How are you today?

DW: Kiss my ass.

[ silence ]

BT: Have you thought about what I said last time? That you need to trust me if we are to make any progress?

DW: You haven't really done anything to earn my trust, Doc.

BT: I guess we'll have to work on that. What if I promise that you can see your family if you tell me something about yourself?

DW: I'm seeing Sam this afternoon.

BT: I wouldn't be so sure about that. Visiting hours are really restricted, and it looks as if you have a meeting at 4pm-

DW: You're fucking joking with me.

BT: Does it look like I'm joking?

[ DW stands up ]

DW: This is blackmail! I'm allowed to see my brother!

BT: Please sit down, Dean. Sit down and tell me something about yourself and I'll make sure that you are free during the visiting hours. 

DW: What do you want to know? Huh? Do you want me to tell you that my dad hit me when I was a kid? That my mom raped me every night? 

BT: Continue, please.

DW: OH MY FUCKING GOD, NO. There's nothing I can tell you, because I don't know what the fuck is wrong with me. Nothing's happened to make me like this, it's just me.

BT: Small children have amazing abilities to shut out unpleasant memories, I think-

DW: YOU'RE NOT LISTENING TO ME. I DON'T HAVE ANY UNPLEASANT MEMORIES, IT'S JUST ME. 

BT: Dean, please sit down.

 

∞

 

To: Gabriel Novak

309 Birch St

Omega KS

66067

From: Castiel Novak

Palm Resort

Los Angeles, CA

90254

Gabe!

Me and Charlie just got checked in at the hotel, we’re about to hit the beach when she gets off the phone with her girlfriend. I hope all is well at home.

Have you heard anything about Dean? I’d appreciate an update, but I don’t want to put more pressure on the Winchesters. 

Your ”bro”

Castiel

 

∞

 

Patient: Dean Winchester

Date of Birth: Jan 24th, 1979

Date: June 12th, 1998

Session nr: 17

Psychiatrist: Bela Talbot

BT: Dean, nice to see you out of bed this morning.

[ no reply ]

BT: How do you feel?

DW: Like I've been tied to my bed all night.

BT: It is for your own safety, Dean. We can't allow you to harm yourself, that would be a bit counterproductive, right?

DW: I don't know what you are talking about.

BT: [ reads from patient log ] "DW has on more than one occasion been found in possession of various sharp objects (knives, razor blades, mirror shards etc), and on examination recent wounds have been found on upper arms and thighs". Sound familiar?

[ no reply ]

BT: Dean, you are here because you need help. We are going to help you, but you have to stop harming yourself.

DW: You don't understand.

BT: Then make me understand.

DW: I can't stop, because of the voice in here [ points to the right temple ] that never shuts up. It's telling me to kill myself, and pain is the only way I can make it go away. 

BT: A voice? Do you know who it belongs to?

DW: It's me. My own voice.

 

∞

 

To: Chuck & Becky Novak

309 Birch St

Omega KS

66067

From: Castiel Novak

USFCA, building F

1134

Dear mother and father,

I am writing this to give you my address and tell you that my first week has been filled with new experiences. My roommate Balthazar has already taught me a lot, and I think I may have influenced him in some areas as well. My summer courses are starting tomorrow, and hopefully they will be interesting.

I hope you can forgive me for not wanting to change who I am because of a religion that I barely believe in anymore. I respect your opinion, but you have to respect mine as well. If I do not get a reply on this letter, I will understand where you stand.

Love,

Castiel

∞

 

Patient: Dean Winchester

Date of Birth: Jan 24th, 1979

Date: July 24th, 1998

Session nr: 37

Psychiatrist: Dr Bela Talbot

BT: Hello, Dean. How are you this morning?

[ no response ]

BT: I hear the new medicine isn't having the desired effect, so we were thinking about changing it.

[ no response ] 

BT: I spoke to your parents about it, and they agreed. So from now on you're on Citalopram instead of Amitriptyline.

[ no response ]

BT: And I still want you to come to group therapy today, just listening to the others can really help.

DW: Listening to other poor suckers who are even worse off than me is going to help? Wow, did you get your education from the back of a cereal box? 

BT: Dean, there's no point in being mean. I'm here-

DW: 'I'm here to help', yeah, you've said that. Voice is still running it's fucking mouth though.

BT: Maybe that's enough for now? I'll come get you this afternoon.

DW: How about you let me talk to my brother? Maybe help me for real?

BT: We've discussed this, and you know that you only got into a bad mood the last time you talked to your family.

[ no response ] 

BT: I will see you at 2 pm.

 

∞

 

To: Chuck & Becky Novak

309 Birch St

Omega KS

66067

From: Castiel Novak

USFCA, building F

1134

Dear mother and father, 

I still haven't received a reply to my last letter, so I'm assuming that you still haven't forgiven me.  I don't mind That's okay. I understand.

Balthazar and I have gone to a few parties together and met some people, but we mostly stick to each other. He makes a mean cup of coffee. And he treats me well, don't worry. 

Have you heard anything about Dean? I know that he's the last person you want to think about, but please understand how important he is to me. I don't have the Winchester's number in my new phone, and I can't find it on the internet.  If you could just stop by their house

I've talked to both Gabe and Anna on the phone, but I'll wait for you to call me. 

Love,

Castiel

 

∞

 

Patient: Dean Winchester

Date of Birth: Jan 24th, 1979

Date: August 13th, 1998

Session nr: 42

Psychiatrist: Dr Bela Talbot

BT: Good morning, Dean.

DW: I have to see my brother. Please, please let me talk to him. I’m going crazy in here.

BT: We can’t allow that, not after what happened last time. It is best for all of you if you don’t see your family for a while.

DW: I’m begging you, let me see him!

BT: Dean! That’s enough! If you talk back one more time I will put you in isolation!

DW: I can’t do this without my family, please.

_Patient Dean Winchester was put in isolation for three days._

 

∞

 

To: Chuck & Becky Novak

309 Birch St

Omega KS

66067

From: Castiel Novak

USFCA, building F

1134

Dear mother and father,

I got a job at a coffee shop close to where I live, thanks to Balthazar who knew the owner. So from now on I will be able to make some money on my own. Gabe sent me a bit of money last month to help pay for food, if you could repay him I will be grateful. 

I'm spending thanksgiving with Balthazar, since his family is dead and he will be alone otherwise. I don't know what we will get up to, but as always I will like it. His company is enjoyable.

Anna told me that she'd talked to Sam Winchester at school, and that there are no news about Dean. I was thinking about coming home for christmas to visit him, if that would be alright with you. I miss you, and I would like to thank you for being my parents, because up until now you have always supported all of my decisions. 

All my love and gratitude,

Your Castiel

 

∞

 

Patient: Dean Winchester

Date of Birth: Jan 24th, 1979

Date: November 30th, 1998

Session nr: 68

Psychiatrist: Dr Bela Talbot

BT: Good morning-

DW: GET OUT! GET THE FUCK OUT AND LEAVE ME ALONE YOU BITCH.

BT: Dean-

DW: I'M FUCKING SERIOUS, LEAVE!

 

∞

 

To: Chuck & Becky Novak

309 Birch St

Omega KS

66067

From: Castiel Novak

USFCA, building F

1134

Dear mother and father,

I'm currently in Los Angeles with Balthazar, we're visiting a very distant relative of his that lives in a great house with a pool. It's certainly different from the snow we have in Kansas this time of the year, but I am enjoying myself. And I'm growing to like Balthazar a lot, he's becoming the best friend I've had since Dean.

Anna got Sam's number for me, but I haven't dared call him yet. I won't return to Kansas in a while, that much I know, and I don't want to upset Dean further. From what I've heard he is not doing very well. 

Still don't know whether to keep writing or not, but Gabe told me to keep at it, that maybe it would thaw your frozen hearts (his choice of words, not mine).

Hoping that you are well,

Castiel

 

∞

 

Patient: Dean Winchester

Date of Birth: Jan 24th, 1979

Date: December 2nd, 1998

Session nr: -

Psychiatrist: Dr Bela Talbot

_The patient DW did not show up to the appointed session, and BT proceeded by getting in touch with the staff in charge of his floor. During the night, DW had found a sharp object and used it to make various cuts on his arms and thighs. DW was put in the hospital wing for observation, and is now facing four days in isolation._

 

∞

 

To: Chuck & Becky Novak

309 Birch St

Omega KS

66067

From: Castiel Novak

USFCA, building F

1134

Dear mother and father,

Merry Christmas! Thank you for the christmas gift, it was perfect. Balthazar is teasing me for the colorful socks, but I like them.

I understand that you need time to adjust, but I would like to know how long that will be. It's a new year, and doesn't that mean that we can put the past behind us?

Anna says that she and Sam are getting to know each other, for which I am glad. Still no good news about Dean, and I'm starting to feel like Sam is getting tired of my questions. Perhaps it would be for the best if I stopped asking about him? 

Balthazar is helping me let go of Dean, which is not an easy task. I think we might be more than friends, and I'm sorry if I'm making you uncomfortable but I won't lie anymore.

Love,

Castiel

 

∞

 

Patient: Dean Winchester

Date of Birth: Jan 24th, 1979

Date: December 28th, 1998

Session nr: 95

Psychiatrist: Dr Bela Talbot

BT: Hello, Dean. How are you today? 

[ no answer ]

BT: What did you think about group therapy yesterday? That new guy, Garth, didn't he seem nice?

[ no answer ]

BT: Your new medicine, any side effects that you have noticed? 

[ no answer ]

 

∞

 

To: Castiel Novak (castielnovak@gmail.com)

From: Mary & John Winchester (winchester@hotmail.com) 

Subject: Dean

Dear Castiel,

I hope that you are enjoying college and that you have time for some fun in between all of your classes. Your sister has been over a few times and told us how you are doing, congratulations on the great results on your exams!

I am e-mailing you (with some help from Sam, I must admit) to give you an update on how Dean is doing. I would have called, but with the time difference and not knowing when you are free, I figured this was the best option. I am sorry we haven’t been keeping in touch, but know that you have been in our thoughts every day.

Dean has been at the T&T clinic for the last six months with no progress, and when we were finally allowed to visit him yesterday after four weeks, he was in a worse condition than he has ever been. We took him home immediately, and as I am writing this he is resting in his room, with John watching over him. I am displeased with the quality of the clinic, and that doctor of his is a piece of work. I will not miss her, despite her high recommendations from the hospital.

Now we're turning to one of John's old friends, a woman in my age called Pamela Barnes. We've met her a few times during the years, so hopefully Dean will be more relaxed talking to someone he knows a bit. Instead of him living in a facility, I'm taking some time off from work to look after him at home, with the help of a night nurse. I just hope that this will work. 

I'm sorry if this was more than you wanted to hear, but I know how much you cared about Dean. I hope that some day you two will meet again, and that circumstances will be different. 

Take care,

Mary


	15. Friend, please

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry it's been a while, hope you haven't given up on me xx 
> 
> Thank you so so much for commenting and leaving kudos, my self-doubt is having a really tough time lately thanks to you!

_Four years later_

Castiel gets the last box up onto the shelf and lets out a deep sigh, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. No matter what Balthazar may have told him, baking powder is _heavy_. He turns the lights off in the storage room after him and goes through the little kitchen on his way to the cashiers, where he is happy to see a familiar face. 

”Cassie!” Balthazar exclaims, and nearly jumps over the desk to reach him. Castiel leans across the edge and accepts the kiss, even though he shouldn’t. In one week it will be a year since they broke up. Balthazar still kisses him every time he sees him though, and Castiel is beginning to wonder if that’s just a part of his personality or because he can’t let go. 

”Hello, Balthazar. How are you today?”

”Jesus Christos, you still speak like a 70-year old man. Lighten up a little, it’s the start of a new semester, new possibilities, new-”

”-new students, I know. I just wish you weren’t leaving.” His friend’s face falls a little at that, but he quickly covers it up with a wide grin. 

”Come with me? It’s not too late-”

”It is. I’m sorry. My internship at the biology center starts in a month, I have to-”

”-be here, it’s a great opportunity. I know, sweetie,” Balthazar says, finishing Castiel’s sentence like they have grown used to. 

”When are you leaving?” 

”In a few hours, I have to go home to pack the last things. Anything you want to keep?” Castiel’s eyes dart to the floor as he can feel a blush pricking at his cheeks, knowing that it’s a weird request but still-

”You want my hoodie?”

Castiel nods, grateful that he didn’t actually have to say it out loud. 

”I’ll see what I can do about that. Still, it’s not like we’re never going to see each other again. I’m just-”

”-moving to New York. Damn it, Balt, couldn’t you have picked a place on the west coast?” 

”Nah, beaches and sun ain’t for me.” 

Castiel watches him, wondering what he’s going to do without his friend. Who is going to fill up the empty room in their apartment, or whether he should get a smaller one. He likes having a roommate though. Being alone isn’t really an option for him. 

”Well, I better go. Plane to catch and all that,” Balthazar sighs, and Castiel nods sadly. He makes his way around the counter and wraps his arms around his best friend, feeling his warmth and friendship once more before they have to part. Balthazar pecks his lips again, and this time it doesn’t feel so wrong. 

”Love you, Cassie.” 

”Love you too,” Castiel replies, and smiles as Balthazar waves and waves until he has walked around the block and is out of Castiel’s line of sight. With a melancholy sigh he grabs a dishtowel and a bucket with warm water, and does a tour of the café. There’s always at least one table that can be cleaned. 

The hours tick by, and as 2:05pm hits Castiel closes his eyes. Balthazar’s plane is in the air now, and who knows when they will see each other again. He is interrupted by a few customers, and plasters on the friendly but neutral smile that he has learned to form and asks them if they are ready to order. Just like on any other day. 

The bell that’s attached to the door makes its obscene noise and Castiel looks up at the man who just entered, acknowledging his arrival with a smile and a nod. What he doesn’t expect, though, is for the man’s eyes to widen and for the largest grin he has seen in a long time form on his lips. 

”Castiel!” he exclaims, and steps towards the counter. ”Oh my god, _wow,_ I can’t believe it’s you!”

Castiel eyes the man in front of him, who he apparently knows or is supposed to know, and tilts his head with a frown. 

”I’m sorry, who are you?” The man is tall, at least a head taller than Castiel, and his hair hangs down to his shoulders, half of it tied up in a bun. His cheeks are stubbled and little dimples form when he smiles, and there’s something about them that’s disturbingly familiar. 

”It’s Sam, Sam Winchester,” he laughs, and all at once Castiel’s mind is flooded with memories. 

It can’t be. Not Sam. 

But it is. 

Even though it hurts to see him, most of the memories he is connected to are good ones. And when Castiel steps around the counter to give him a hug, he doesn’t want to let go. 

”Sam,” he breathes, and they regard each other at an arm’s length. He looks good, Castiel notices. His face has lost its childish roundness, and he’s grown at least a foot since the last time they met. 

”Wow, Cas, you look so much like an adult. It’s scary.”

”Speak for yourself,” he mumbles, still looking at Sam in shock. He is _tall_. 

”Yeah, I’ve grown a bit during the last couple of years.”

”A _bit_? Sam, you’re like seven feet tall.” 

”6’4”,” he corrects with the never-ending smile. Suddenly he seems to remember something that he should have remembered a lot earlier, and he twists his head towards the entrance quickly. 

”Crap,” he exclaims, and turns back to Castiel who is completely bewildered. ”Dean was just parking the car, he’ll be here any second. Lemme just give him a heads up, please? Could you step into the kitchen and let me tell him first, so he doesn’t have a heart attack or something?” 

”Dean?” Castiel mumbles. 

_Dean_ Winchester.

He hasn’t said or heard that name in years. The way Sam just casually blurts it out, like he says it several times every day, makes Castiel realize just how long it’s been since he last saw the brothers. 

And now they are both here, apparently. Sam, hugging him and smiling at him like he’s been missed every single day that they have been apart. Dean, just outside the coffee shop, parking his car. The Impala, undoubtedly. 

_Dean Winchester is_ here. That would probably mean that he is okay now, that he’s not in therapy anymore. But what is he doing here? What is _Sam_ doing here? Maybe they’re on vacation? But why would they come here out of all places…?

”Cas, please, I’ll be right back.”

”Of course,” Castiel blurts, and practically runs into the kitchen. _Dean Winchester_. Castiel is afraid that he’s the one who’s going to have a heart attack. He can hear the door open and close, and Sam speaks instantly. 

”Dean, don’t freak out on me now, okay?”

_His name_ , Castiel can’t get over hearing it out loud. 

”What have you done this time?” a low voice sighs, and Castiel’s heart literally skips a beat. He’d recognize that voice anywhere, even though it’s so different from the one he used to know. Dean is right there on the other side of the wall. Alive, healthy, bickering with his brother like always. And Castiel is both terrified and unbelievably excited at the same time, and it’s terrible and wonderful. 

”Just don’t freak out. Okay?”

”Okay, fine, I won’t freak out. What’s going on?”

”Castiel works here, and no, I did not know about it until I was talking to him just now.”

A silence follows, deep and thick despite the coffee grinder and the sound of the other customers in the shop that are chatting obliviously. Castiel waits, terrified that Dean is going to walk away before he can see him. 

_I love you_.

The last words he said to him at the hospital, words he thought had lost their meaning. He was so wrong. 

”Where is he?” Dean says quietly, clearly as nervous as Castiel is. 

Castiel takes the question as his queue to show up, so he leaves the kitchen and his eyes are instantly glued to Dean Winchester. 

He is beautiful, as he always has been in Castiel’s eyes. However the skinny kid that he used to know has been replaced with a broad-shouldered man with a sharp, stubbled jaw and tattooed arms. He looks to be at least twice as big as he used to be, arms muscled and a toned chest that stretches his shirt to the point where Castiel feels sorry for the seams that are doing their best to keep it together. 

Castiel gets stuck observing the tattoos, intricate patterns that run across his skin and cleverly disguises the magnificent scars, so that you won’t notice them unless you know that they are there. He meets Dean’s eyes, and it takes his breath away. The green is so soft and brilliant at the same time and it actually hurts to see him. Castiel has missed him way more than he can admit. 

”Look at you,” Dean chuckles, meeting his eyes after completing the same body-scan that Castiel had just done. ”Come here,” he says, lifting his arms and Castiel nearly runs around the counter to hug him. The embrace is warm and safe and feels like _home_. 

Castiel regretfully pulls away before it has lasted for too long, needing a second to just take this in. Dean Winchester, the same sparkle in his eyes and the same little smile playing on his lips. And Castiel has never loved him more than he does in this moment. 

”I’ve missed you,” he admits, voice cracking because of the words he can’t say. 

”You too, buddy. So much.”

”Come on, let’s sit down for a while,” Sam suggests, and Castiel only does a quick run into the kitchen to tell them that he needs a break before he joins the brothers. 

”I just- I need a moment to take this in,” Castiel confesses as he sits across from them in one of the booths. His eyes dart back and forth like an intense ping-pong game, where he doesn’t know what he is more shocked by - Sam’s height or Dean’s weight gain. 

He sees his body so clearly when he blinks, gaunt and lean and nothing like the person in front of him now. Dean watches him too, but a little more discreetly.

”Wh- what are you doing here?” Castiel says at last, and he doesn’t miss the way the brothers exchange a quick glance. Apparently they decide that Sam is the one who should do the talking. 

”I’m going to study law, Stanford, you know,” he chuckles, and runs a hand through his long hair. ”And Dean’s been accepted to the police academy here in San Francisco, so he’s starting up next week. I came with him to check out the school and have a look at a few apartments. It’s only an hour away, so I wanted to check out the city as well. Get a feel for it.” 

Castiel nods at his words, and casts a glance at Dean. The police academy, like they talked about all those years ago. He wonders if Dean still thinks about that time. 

”That sounds nice. When is your semester starting up?”

”In two weeks, I’ll be going back once Dean has started. This place is actually close to one of the apartments, that’s why we decided to stop by for a coffee.” 

”Oh! I’ll get you something, hold on!” Castiel interrupts, and leaves before they can protest. Coffee. Yes, he needs some caffeine to pull himself together. 

Balthazar left only hours ago, and now his life just took the most unexpected turn he has ever experienced. 

With coffee and one slice of pie for each Winchester, Castiel finally has the nerve to sit down again. Sam thanks him and takes a sip, however Dean just holds his cup and watches it serenely. Castiel wonders what is going on in his head. If he still battles with whatever was going on in there four years ago. 

”So, Cas, tell us. What have you been up to? Anna’s been keeping me updated, but it’s been a while since I talked to her,” Sam asks, and Castiel forces himself to take his mind off Dean. 

”Uh, I went to LA for a vacation after graduation, with Charlie, and then I pretty much moved out here. I took some summer courses, just because, and I got a room with a roommate at the college campus. His name’s Balthazar, after the first year we got our own flat and have been living there since. He’s actually on his way to New York as we speak, to work at some science lab. And…well…I’ve been studying a lot. But I’m finished now. So I’m just working here until my internship starts. That one lasts for four months, and then… I don’t know.” He’s rambling and he hates himself for it, but he doesn’t know what to say and the attention is so intense when _Sam_ and _Dean Winchester_ are the ones he is talking to. 

”Sounds nice. What kind of internship?” 

”It’s at an institute for preserving wildlife in the Pacific, evolutionary biology, that sort of thing.” 

”Cool,” Sam replies, and looks over at Dean who has barely said a word to show that he’s listening. He starts a little and flashes a smile. 

”Uh, yeah. Cool.” 

”And your parents?” Sam continues. Castiel doesn’t even flinch at the word, which surprises him.

”I wouldn’t know. I haven’t spoken to them in four years.”

At this Dean lets out a small growl that has both Sam and Castiel frowning.

”Assholes,” he mutters, and Sam instantly punches his arm. 

” _Dean._ ”

”What? They won’t talk to him because he’s gay. Because apparently god doesn’t approve of men who like men. They’re assholes.” 

Castiel doesn’t really know if he should reply to that, and certainly not what he should say. However the feeling of Dean’s protectiveness over him is something that he had forgotten. Something he has missed. 

Now, he can see that something is brewing underneath Dean’s skin. It is as if he is itching to act, to move, or maybe to get away. 

Maybe seeing Castiel brought up too many old memories that he’d like to forget? 

”Gabriel and my other brother Michael has visited me a few times though. And I’ve spoken to Anna on the phone. So they still let me keep in touch with my siblings.” 

”That’s nice, Cas,” Sam says with a soft smile, obviously fighting to make amends for Dean’s rough words. Silence follows Sam’s voice, during which Castiel stubbornly stares into his cup of coffee. He has dreamed about this moment for years, thought up countless scenarios of his reunion with Dean, but never had he imagined the guilt he feels now. 

_Please, don’t leave me_.

But he did. He left, and broke his own heart in doing so. Now he feels lost, chained to nothing but the occasional messages from his siblings and, hopefully, Balthazar. His life feels like a great black empty space, ready to be filled but he doesn’t know with what. 

”Sammy, didn’t you want to check out that bookstore we drove past?” Dean mumbles, and his voice is so, so beautiful. Castiel just feels like breaking into tears.  
”Uh…”

”Sam?” 

”Yeah. Right. I’m gonna go do that. It was great to see you again, Cas, let’s keep in touch, alright? We don’t want to lose you.” 

”Thank you, Sam,” Castiel replies. It’s all he can say at the moment. 

Sam leaves a heavy silence and an empty seat, and Castiel doesn’t know how to look into Dean’s eyes. When he speaks his voice is like knives through Castiel’s skin. 

”I owe you an explanation, Cas. You can ask me anything you want and I’ll answer it, but after this conversation is over I would be grateful if you don’t bring this up.” 

”Bring what up?” Castiel asks obliviously, and he can hear Dean’s smile more than he can see it.

”What happened after I tried to kill myself.” 

”Oh.”  
”Yeah. I’m gonna need another coffee for this.”

”Of course.” Castiel grabs both of their cups and refills them, and when he’s returned to his seat Dean takes a few seconds before he starts to speak.

”When you’d left, I had a bit of a meltdown. They had to give me sedatives and all sorts of drugs to get me to calm down, and even then I couldn’t stop crying. It took several hours before I spoke to anyone. Sam was the only one I’d talk to, and they let him stay during the night so I could sleep.

I stayed at the hospital for three more days, before I was moved to a place called the T&T clinic, which is basically a mental institute. I got my own room, was introduced to some of the people there, and so on. My shrink was this British woman in her thirties, really pretty but definitely not what you’d call sympathetic, and we really didn’t get along well. I went to see her for private sessions five times a week, and group therapy four times a week, and various activities like painting and crafting and all kinds of things that made it feel like I was stuck in kindergarten. 

I didn’t really have a problem with the other patients, but the staff were all stuck up and never seemed to have time to talk to us, most of them right-out ignored us. The chefs that made our lunch were more helpful than the actual staff. And my shrink, she was just awful. She threatened to revoke my right to have visitors if I didn’t co-operate, put me in isolation each and every week, and gave me all kinds of meds that either had no effect at all or just made things worse. I was treated for bipolar disease, which I don’t have, schizophrenia, which I don’t have, bulimia, which I kind of had but it was more of a symptom than a cause, catatonia, which I don’t have, the list just goes on and on. I ate up to fifteen pills every day. 

A lot of the time I didn’t know where I was or what was going on, I kept finding sharp things to cut myself and at one point I tried to kill myself. I always ended up in isolation for a few days. That was the worst torture I have ever experienced, locked up in a small cell with nothing but the voice in my head that never stopped screaming at me to die. 

My family didn’t get to see me a lot, since my shrink kept telling them that I would only get worse if I had contact with someone that would remind me of my past, so they didn’t know what was going on. They thought I was doing better. 

The breaking point came when they finally got to see me after four weeks, and the first thing I did was attack Sam. I knocked him out completely, and I was going for mom when dad managed to get a hold of me. They took me home the same day. 

My dad’s old friend Pamela started to treat me instead, she spent hour after hour at our house talking to me, telling me how she became a shrink after her brother committed suicide. She switched all of my meds for a mild antidepressant, and worked to earn my trust instead so I’d open up. It took a while, but eventually she got me talking, and once the lid was off I could barely stop. There was just so many things on my mind that had to come out, and she helped me sort through all my thoughts and fears and made me realize that nothing was wrong with me, that it’s okay to be a little messed up. Without her, I’d probably be dead by now. 

After only two months I started working a little at Bobby’s, just to get out of the house, and gradually I started working more and spent less time with Pamela. I got my high school diploma, started working out with Sam a few days a week, and slowly I got my life back in order. I applied to the police academy, Sam applied to Stanford, and we both got in. And here I am.”

The entire time he’d been speaking, Dean hadn’t looked at Castiel once. Now his eyes are glued to Castiel’s, searching for something in them. He hasn’t made a comment about the tears that are lining Castiel’s cheeks. After allowing them both to catch their breaths, Castiel finally finds his voice. 

”Did I- would it have made a difference? If I hadn’t left?” he whispers unsteadily. 

”No,” Dean replies firmly, shaking his head. ”You did the right thing. I was too dependent on you already, and if you had been there I wouldn’t have been able to find myself. But I…” he trails off. Castiel doesn’t know how to make him continue. 

”I missed you. Every day,” he says at last. 

”And I missed you. I-”

_I love you. I still do. Always have, always will._

”I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I left. Even if it was the right thing to do, it sure didn’t feel like it. You needed me, and I just…left.” 

”Hey,” Dean mumbles, and reaches for Castiel’s arm. His fingers send fireworks and sparks of light through Castiel’s skin. ”This was something that I had to do on my own. I don’t think I would ever have been able to get better if you had stayed. I would only have drowned myself in you.” 

”I’m still sorry.”

”Don’t be. You owe me nothing, Castiel.” 

It’s probably not intentional, but by saying Castiel’s full name out loud Dean manages to get through to him. 

All that guilt that has been building up during the years just vanishes, and he feels peaceful for the first time in a long time. Dean is alive, and he is alright. Maybe still a bit of a mess, but not more than he can handle. 

”So were you ever diagnosed with something? A disorder, or a disease, anything?” Castiel blurts as the question pops into his mind. Dean does a little shrug and takes a sip of his coffee. 

”Clinical depression. Psychotic depression. Really bad depression combined with really bad self-confidence and a poor choice of friends. I still struggle with it, sometimes, but now I don’t feel the need to carve into my skin.”

Castiel is reminded of the scars, and he glances at Dean’s arms. The tattoos are still there. He reaches out to touch, but remembers all the times Dean flinched away from him. 

”May I?” he asks quietly, and Dean lays his arms out on the table between them. Castiel still hesitates before touching them, wondering if the dark patterns will feel rougher than the skin he remembers. It’s still the same though, which is a little weird. 

He follows the patterns with his index finger, finding words and symbols mixed up in the waves and lines that create an almost inca-like pattern. He finds ”Sam”, ”Mom”, ”Dad”, ”B” which he guesses stands for Bobby, and ”E” which has to be Ellen. There’s a beautiful image of a dog as well, with the word ”Angel” underneath. Castiel only needs to look up and see Dean’s expression to understand what has happened to his poor dog.

”We had to put her down, almost a year ago now. Cancer,” Dean explains shortly. The pain is evident in his voice. 

”I know how much she meant to you,” is Castiel’s reply. He continues to examine the tattoos, and ends up circling seven symbols that are lined up next to each other. The reason he didn’t just go past them is because they are written in white ink on a black background, and really stand out from the rest. 

”It’s Enochian,” Dean says quietly. 

”What does it say?” 

”Castiel.” 


	16. I'd live for you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I GOT A TATTOO
> 
> Now you know, hehe. Hope you like the chapter my lovelies, I promise you that there will be an end to all of this angst soon xx

Dean is back in his and Sam’s shared hotel room, and he feels as if his entire world was just turned upside down. His body aches in a way it hasn’t done in years. Should he be happy that he finally, _finally_ got to see Cas again, or sad because of the invisible wall between them? He doesn’t know. 

Of course Cas didn’t wait for him. Of fucking course. Dean had been ignorant to think that they would be happily reunited and kiss and never let go because they would be so scared to lose each other again. 

But Cas had gotten a roommate called Balthazar who Dean just knew instantly was more than a roommate. And he’s happy for Cas, hell, he’s _thrilled_ that he got to move on away from their destructive relationship, but that doesn’t mean that Dean isn’t still stuck in it. That he’s not still madly in love with the dark-haired angel whose eyes light up every time he laughs, whose skin sets fire to every nerve inside Dean’s body. It hurts so much that after all of this time, Dean still can’t let go. 

Sam finds him on the edge of the bed, fingers wrapped around his biceps in the position that he’ll probably never be able to stop returning to. He hates that his brother instantly stops talking and gently sits next to him, but hell if it isn’t exactly what he needs. 

”Tough day?” is all he says, and Dean nods. Seeing Cas was _tough_. 

Saying goodbye to him was even harder. 

A hug, that was all that Dean got before he left the little café, with Cas’s phone number scribbled on a napkin and the knowledge that he works there every day from eight to four. The napkin is safely tucked away in Dean’s coat, where it will probably lay untouched for days. 

_I love you_. 

The confirmation that Dean is still deeply and frustratingly in love with Cas upsets him more than it should. 

He remembers Pamela’s words about letting go, about standing on his own two legs and not needing another human to survive. One thing will never change, though:

He needs Castiel. Mora than oxygen. More than water. 

And now he may just have lost him. Again. 

 

Sam has helped him make a list of affordable apartments near the school (or rather, made a list that he’s forced Dean to follow), which is the reason they are now driving to 152 Willabee Road. Sam gets out of the car first, looks up at the large brick building and stretches his arms out. 

”Looks nice, right?” 

”Right,” Dean mutters, and makes sure to lock the doors to the Impala. He’d prefer to sleep in the trunk to some of the apartments that they have seen today. 

Willabee road is pretty much the same as Oak Lane or Palomino Road. It’s a nice place, sure, but it’s 150 square feet and Dean doesn’t fit in the shower. When they are back in the car after no more than five minutes, Dean can practically smell the irritation that seeps off of his brother. 

”Come on, Sammy, spit it out,” he groans as he turns the ignition. 

”You didn’t even look properly. Could you at least _pretend_ to be interested?” 

”It’s too small!”

”You can’t afford anything bigger!”

”Hell yes I can, I could by a fucking suite if I wanted to.”

”With the trust fund that’s supposed to pay for your education. Our parents may be rich, but they’re not _that_ rich. My place is only 140 square feet.”

”And you’ll spend 99% of your time in the library. We both know that I prefer to stay at home, which means that I’ll have to find a place that I actually like. And one where I don’t get claustrophobia from standing in the shower.” 

”Dean.” 

Dean rolls his eyes and hits the road, hoping that turning the volume up can get his brother to shut up for just five seconds. 

”So, weird seeing Cas, right?”

Apparently three seconds was Sam’s limit. 

”Yeah. He’s grown up a bit, hasn’t he?”

”So have you. He looked a bit shocked to see both of us.”

”Well seeing as you’re now a head taller than me, I would have been surprised if he hadn’t looked shocked.”

”You’ve filled out a bit too, Dean.”

”Eating food without throwing it up does that to you, you know.” 

There’s a short silence, and this time Sam doesn’t immediately fill it.

”Sorry,” Dean sighs as he sees how his brother’s hands are fidgeting. 

”Don’t. Just…don’t.” 

”Don’t make jokes about mental illness?”

”Don’t apologize for it.” 

Dean can’t stop the smile that makes his lips quirk up. They are okay, him and Sam. After all the crap that they’ve gone through, they are still okay. 

”How about I find a roommate? That way I can afford the rent and still get a bigger place.”

”Let’s have a look,” Sam replies, and pulls the newspaper that he discarded that same morning. 

”As long as you don’t put me up with some 60-year old man, I think I’ll be fine.” 

”How about this? 300 square feet, Eden Street, $900 a month. ’I smoke so I don’t mind if you do’.”

”Maybe not.”

”Maybe not,” Sam agrees with a chuckle. ”350 square feet, Pearl Street, $1200 a month-”

”Too much money for 350 square feet,” Dean interrupts. ”And it’s still too small.”

”Alright, how about 600 square feet, $1000 a month. There’s a gym on the top floor for the residents, a garage with a free space, and the guy is a non-smoker who doesn’t mind having an animal. You could get a dog.” 

”I don’t know-”

”Dean, this is probably the best one you’ll find. $1000, that’s $500 a month for you. And it’s on Brooke Street, that’s only three blocks from the academy.” 

”Fine! I’ll have a look! Send a text and say that I’m free the next couple of days.” 

 

Three hours later Dean is in front of door 52B and presses the doorbell. When he doesn’t hear a single noise coming from inside, he knocks instead. 

Sam had sent him off on his own, since he was going on some nerdy event for book-nerds at the bookstore that made Dean want to run in the opposite direction. As he’s waiting for the door to open, he kind of wishes that Sam was there with him. His brother has always been better at making people like him, whereas Dean usually scares people off. The heavily tattooed arms and the fact that he rarely smiles might contribute to that. 

The door opens and Dean hurriedly plasters on a smile, hoping that the person inside won’t shut him out. 

Out of all the people in the world that Dean might have imagined standing behind that door, Castiel Novak wasn’t one of them. And if he was in pain before, it’s nothing compared to how it feels to see Cas in bright green socks with his hair standing out in each and every direction. Dean is pretty sure that his heart has given up on him. 

”Dean?” 

”Cas?”

”How did you know where I live?”

”Do you live here?”

”What are you doing here?”

”I- wow, this is so typical. I’m just gonna go.”

”Hang on.” Dean takes no more than three steps away from the door when he stops, sensing how Cas has followed him into the corridor. He knew that Cas was looking for a roommate, but seriously? What are the odds of him picking Cas’s ad out of all the ones in the newspaper?

”Are you the one who texted me about sharing the apartment?” Cas asks at last, having reached the same conclusion as Dean. Whether it is a trick of fate or just a mean coincidence, Dean can’t tell.

”Yeah, we found your ad in the paper. Don’t worry, I’ll just go.”

”You could have a look,” Cas blurts as Dean turns to leave. He doesn’t dare look Cas in the eyes, not yet. Not when he’s desperately trying to not fall apart. 

”Are you sure?”

”Why not? I need a roommate, and you need a place to live. We’ve known each other our entire lives, don’t you think we should be able to live together?”

Dean wants to say yes that very second. He wants to move in and share everything with Cas, he wants to make him breakfast and talk to him every day and never let him out of his sight. 

”I suppose I could have a look,” Dean mumbles at last. Cas cracks a smile and opens the door wider to let him come inside. 

”It’s a bit messy, and Balthazar brought a few things to New York. Come on in, this is the living room…”

The next half hour is spent looking around the apartment, and it’s everything that Dean could wish for. The living room has a large couch with a TV, the windows let in a lot of light, it’s homey and filled with little things that just reminds him of Cas. Even the kitchen is perfect, with a small kitchen island with two bar stools and enough counters to cook side by side. 

Dean gets to look at the bedrooms as well, and can’t help but notice that there’s a double bed in the larger of the two. The one that Cas is using.The one that he undoubtedly shared with Balthazar.

”So? What do you think? To be honest with you, there’s been two other guys that have contacted me, but one of them was fifty years old with a beard, and the other one looked as if he couldn’t even afford living here for one month. The rent payment is coming up, and I really don’t have the money so I need an answer as-”

”I really like it, Cas. I do. And I’d really like to live here.”

”Oh. That’s great!” Cas exclaims, his entire face lighting up. Dean is cautious to show the same enthusiasm however, since he knows that sharing an apartment with Cas will be torture for him. Watching him bring home friends, and potential boyfriends… It hurts, to say the least. But still, Dean can’t say no. 

”So when would you like to move in? I mean, as you can see my things are spread out everywhere, but I’ll put them in my room.”

”Uh, I don’t know, Sam’s leaving on Friday, so maybe that’d be a good time? Our hotel is only booked until Thursday night.”

”Friday is perfect,” Cas beams. ”I work till four pm, but I’ll give you a key so you can get settled in. Wow.” 

”Yeah. Are we really doing this?”  
”I think we are.” 

Dean doesn’t know how to reply to that, but at least the silence that falls is comfortable. Maybe they can do this. 

”I should go,” Dean sighs at last, because he really doesn’t want to leave.

”Oh. Yes, of course. Let me show you to the door.” They get up simultaneously and Cas leads them to the front door, where he watches as Dean puts on his coat and shoes. 

”I like your tattoos,” he bursts, which makes Dean chuckle and wonder for how long he’s been wanting to say that.

”Thank you.”

”They suit you. Any criminal will know not to mess with you.” 

It’s an extremely awkward thing to say and they both know it, but Dean only smiles stiffly and leaves with a short goodbye. The entire ride home, he wonders if he’s making a mistake. 

Correction: he _knows_ that he’s making a mistake, but still he doesn’t know how to make himself stop. 

Sam is surprisingly supportive when he finds out who Dean’s new roommate is, which just makes Dean more stressed out when it should calm his nerves. There’s a glint in his eyes that Dean might just be imagining, but if Sam thinks that what they are doing isn’t completely crazy, maybe it isn’t. Sam is the sane one, after all. 

Friday comes too soon and not soon enough at all, and when Dean drives Sam to the train station with nothing but two boxes of his things in the back seat, he is sorry to see his brother leave.

”You take care, Sammy,” he says, and despite himself he gives him a hug. 

”You too. And take care of Cas.”

”What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean frowns, and leans against the side of the Impala. Sam gives him a knowing smile and shakes his head.

”You’ll figure it out. See you soon?”

”Yeah, I’ll have to check out your 140 square feet of nerdiness, bitch.”

”Jerk.” 

Sam turns around and Dean can’t help but feel as if they won’t see each other for a long, long time. 

The drive to Cas’s - and Dean’s - apartment takes ten minutes, and Dean finds the garage. It’s a tight fit for the Impala, but well inside Dean is pleased that she will get some shelter. He instinctively taps the hood twice as he walks by.

After two rounds up the stairs all of Dean’s things are standing in the hallway. There’s not a lot, a few pictures, his Vonnegut books, and besides that mostly clothes. His room in Kansas is still stuffed with the rest of his things, even though he never plans to go back there. 23 years old, and he feels like his life is just getting started. The years in between high school and now have been mixed up with being sick and not functioning like a regular person, and he is still coming to terms with the fact that the rest of the world didn’t stop and wait for him. 

Cas’s apartment is warm and cozy. Dean carries his two boxes into the empty bedroom, and the first thing he does is make the bed. He puts the picture frames on the nightstand and hangs some of his clothes in the wardrobe. In the bathroom there’s an empty shelf for his toothbrush, shaving kit and deodorant. He smiles a little as he notices that they use the same perfume. 

There’s really not a lot more to do as he’s gotten his things settled in, so he takes another tour of the place. The hallway leads directly to the living room, which is connected to the kitchen, and to the right is a short corridor with one door to Cas’s bedroom, one to the bathroom and one to Dean’s bedroom. 

”I guess this is home now,” he says to no one. Maybe he should get a dog. He makes a mental reminder to talk to Cas about it. 

After checking out the kitchen and finding that it was damn near empty of anything called food, Dean decides to head to the grocery store that Cas told him about the other day. It’s only two blocks away, so he decides to walk. On the way there he walks past ordinary-looking people with little kids trailing them, teenagers who look pleased to be out on their own, and people in his own age who most likely go to one of the universities. 

He feels extraordinarily ordinary. No one recognizes him. No one treats him like the celebrity at school, the rich kid who hangs out with the bad boys and girls who smoke and skip classes. He’s left that part of his life behind, and for now it seems as if it won’t come back to bite him in the ass. 

He buys a little more food than necessary and has a hard time carrying it home, but he manages and once he’s back at the apartment there’s only half an hour until Cas stops working. Still a little nervous as to how they are going to get along, he decides to make dinner, and finds that he feels perfectly at home in the kitchen. Things are where they are supposed to be, the frying pans are stick-free and his heart swells as he realizes just how well he knows Castiel. After all this time, he still knows that his friend doesn’t want his vegetables mixed up with the rest of the food, and that there’s no such thing as too much cheese. 

When the door opens and Cas’s voice calls through to the kitchen, Dean turns the oven off and puts the bread rolls on two plates. 

”What is that smell? It’s amazing,” Cas exclaims, and there’s a gum-splitting smile on his face as Dean looks up.

”I made dinner. I know it’s a bit early, but I wanted to do something for you.”

”You didn’t have to, but wow. Thank you.” 

”Come on, have a seat. There’s hamburgers and cheese and some salad.”

They assemble their hamburgers and Dean asks him how his day has been, and he replies with some tales of annoying customers and regular customers who cheered him up. When the question is turned back to Dean, he gives a short summary of his day, and is pleased when they are able to carry a normal conversation. They finish the meal and Dean does the dishes, and as expected they end up in front of the TV. There’s not a lot of talking, but it’s still nice. It’s nice to not be alone, and most of all, it’s nice to feel Cas’s presence. Dean didn’t know just how much he’d missed it, and he hopes to god that this will work out. 

 

The days pass by, as they have a way of doing, and Dean’s classes start up the Monday after he’d moved in with Cas. His teachers are tough but fair, and he fits right in with his classmates. They are all tall, strong and hard-headed, but above all they are the most kind-hearted people Dean has ever met. He gets a shock on his second day when he finds out that he and Benny are in the same class, and after having a long talk with him he realizes that when he though Benny was pushing him away, he was trying to give him space. Having one familiar face around lifts his spirits, and for the first time in his life he feels as if he’s made all the right decisions. 

The education starts with a tough cardio schedule, combined with various exercises and requirements. Dean spends each and every night at the gym, and with Cas working every day they don’t see each other a lot. Even though they try to have dinner together every night, they’re lucky if they manage three nights a week. There are some awkward moments in the mornings when they collide on their way to the shower, but most of the time it’s easy to adapt to the other. Dean knows how Cas works, and vice versa. The best part is that Cas somehow knows when Dean needs space, and he doesn’t pressure him like Sam sometimes does. It’s nice, finally being able to live in peace. 

 

On a Thursday in late September, Dean has a really bad day. His mood goes up and down, but lately it’s mostly been up. That’s why it comes as such a shock when he wakes up to a headache that threatens to make his temples explode, and to eyelids that are weighed down with sadness.

He hasn’t missed his depression at all, and now it is as if it’s taking out its revenge on him. The voice is gone, but he is heavy with a sense of worthlessness and getting out of bed isn’t even an option. 

”Dean?” There’s a soft knock on the door, and Dean turns around in bed. He doesn’t want to face Cas, he _can’t_ face Cas when he’s like this. ”I’m leaving for work. There’s some scrambled eggs for you on the stove, and toast in the freezer.”

He grunts something in response, apparently enough for him to leave. The clock shows 07:50. His first class starts in forty minutes, and it’s cardio. 

”Not gonna happen,” he mutters, and burrows deeper into the bed. 

The phone wakes him up by playing Led Zeppelin, and angrily he presses the green button.

”What?” 

”Morning, brotha’. I’m outside your door and I ain’t leaving until you get your ass out of bed.”

”Not today, Benny. I’m not feeling very well.” 

”I can tell, but I still need you to come to school with me. You can do this.” 

_You can do this_.

Hell yes, he can. With a groan he gets out of bed and stumbles to the door wearing nothing but his underwear and a black t-shirt, and instead of letting Benny inside he simply unlocks the door and heads to the bathroom. He can hear his friend going into the kitchen and makes sure to hurry up. Benny is not going to be late because of him. 

The day that started out really crappy just gets worse and worse. Their coach greets them with a 4 mile-run, followed by a gym session and one-on-one combat lessons. After lunch, they have two two-hour long lectures about law and how the police co-operate with lawyers and judges and all that, and by five pm Dean’s already fried brain has pretty much given up. Benny gives him a ride home and unsuccessfully tries to get a conversation going. Dean can hear the apology in his friend’s voice, since they both know that he probably would have been better off staying at home today.

However, he made it. He made it through the entire day without wanting to kill something, and he considers that a plus. He made it despite thinking ”what’s the point” at least a hundred times every hour. 

With heavy steps he makes his way to the second floor, and as he opens the door he can’t put into words how grateful he is to be home.

”Hey, welcome home! I made pizza, come here and you can decide what toppings you want!” is Cas’s greeting, and Dean’s heart swells with affection. He’s been an asshole all day, and then he comes home to this. 

”You made pizza?” he asks gently as he enters the kitchen, where he finds Cas in a flour-stained apron. There’s even some flour in his hair. 

”From scratch. I wanted to do something nice for us, since it’s exactly one month since you moved in!” 

”You’re awesome,” Dean sighs, and joins his side by one of the counters. Pizza dough is spread out on two baking trays, with tomato sauce and cheese already forming the base. Dean ads some of the ham and pepperoni that Cas has prepared, along with oregano and mozzarella cheese. They work side by side in silence, because at the moment words aren’t really needed.

Dean’s back aches from all the running and sitting still and working out, and he tries to pop his spine several times without success. Cas gives him a few funny looks, but doesn’t mention it until after dinner when they’ve made themselves comfortable in the couch and Dean just can’t stop shuffling about. 

”Lie on your stomach, let me give you a massage,” he says without warning. Before Dean knows what he’s doing, he is face down on the couch with Cas straddling his hips, however every memory of having Cas above him like that _naked_ vanishes as strong fingers start working on the knots in his muscles, and he even lets out a pleased grunt. 

”I’m gonna hire you as my private masseur,” Dean mumbles, a shiver running along his spine as Cas finds a sore spot and tends to it. 

”Whatever helps you get through the day.” 

It’s sweet and probably has no deeper meaning, but Cas’s words hit a little too close to home. He needs this. Human interaction, spending time with Cas. It makes him feel better in a way he didn’t know was possible. 

Cas finishes, way too soon, and gets off his back. Reluctantly Dean gets up into a sitting position, and finds that he feels so much better. 

”Thank you, Cas. Thank you for taking care of me.”

”What are friends for?” 


	17. I will make you believe you are lovely

Dean is _everywhere_. He’s there in the mornings when Castiel wakes up, he’s there in the evenings when he’s going to bed, always there, every day, all the time. It’s driving Castiel crazy that he’s so close but still not close enough to touch. And he’s not going to lie, sharing an apartment with Dean is not the easiest thing in the world. They bicker about things that make no sense, like who drank the last milk or who emptied the tube of toothpaste, but in a way it makes Castiel love Dean even more. He loves how he gets up in the mornings wearing nothing but his underwear and a t-shirt, sits by the kitchen island and nearly goes back to sleep again. How he scoots a little closer during movie nights so they both can reach the popcorn. 

There are some things, however, that aren’t as enjoyable. 

”DAMN IT, CAS, WHY AREN’T THERE ANY CLEAN TOWELS?!” he shouts one early morning. Way, way too early. Closer to midnight than noon. 

”Check the cupboard!” Castiel yells back, and a few moments of blissful silence follows before Dean’s voice returns. 

”IT’S FUCKING EMPTY! COME ON, I’M DRIPPING WATER ALL OVER THE BATHROOM!”

With the deepest of sighs, Castiel wraps himself up in his blanket, grabs two spare towels from his wardrobe and marches into the bathroom. 

”Here you go,” he mutters, ignoring completely how Dean covers himself up behind the shower curtain and stutters something in response. He is too tired to deal with this right now. 

A while later, Castiel has almost gotten back to sleep when there’s a gentle knock on his door. He turns around to find a bashful Dean looking at him with a soft smile. 

”I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

”It’s okay, Dean. Really. I’m glad I could save you from doing the naked dance through the house.”  
”Heh, yeah, thank you. I’m gonna make some breakfast, anything you want?”

”Coffee,” Castiel mumbles, which earns him a laugh. 

Once he is properly dressed and a bit more woken up, Castiel joins Dean in the kitchen. The smell of coffee and toast is mouth-watering, and he almost jumps from happiness when he finds that Dean has made scrambled eggs as well. His favorite. 

”So, are we doing anything this weekend?” Dean asks as he pours them a cup of coffee each, placing one in front of Castiel. He blows on it a little and shrugs his reply. 

”Any suggestions?”

”I’d really like to see the Lord of The Rings, if you’re up for a movie night?”

”We could just go to the cinema, you know,” Castiel suggests, but when he sees the frown on Dean’s face he quickly changes his mind. There’s something about staying at home that just makes Dean content, and Castiel won’t be the one to break that tradition. Honestly speaking, he prefers having Dean for himself. 

They finish breakfast and Castiel goes to work at the same time as Dean goes to school. It’s like any other day, except that it’s Friday, meaning that everyone at work can taste the weekend. Castiel talks to Balthazar on his lunch break and gets the latest update on how the east coast is doing, sends a few snapchats to Charlie, and does his best to act busy whenever his boss leaves the kitchen. Like any other day, things calm down around three pm, he and two other guys start cleaning the desks and counters, and by four pm they clock out. Castiel walks home in less than six minutes, eager to get his weekend starting. Movie night with Dean, maybe make some pancakes for breakfast tomorrow morning…A nice, lazy weekend. Just what they need. 

Which is why he is surprised to come home and find Dean drunk in the kitchen, rock music blaring from the speakers. 

”Cas! I ordered pizza!” he yells over the obscenely loud music, and welcomes him with a hug. Cas barely has time to register what is going on before a glass of brown liquid is put in his hand and Dean urges at him to drink it. Castiel rolls his eyes but decides to play along, which he regrets when he empties the glass and it tastes like swallowing mouthwash. He shrugs involuntarily as it burns through his systems, and barely notices how Dean fills his glass once more. This time, he empties it without being told to. If Dean wants them to get drunk, Castiel can get drunk. Watching a movie will probably be more fun under the influence of alcohol. 

”Me and Benny stopped by a bar on the way home, they served free shots! Free, Cas! Can you believe it?” 

”I really can’t,” Castiel replies, feeling how the alcohol is going straight to his brain. He hasn’t eaten any real food since eleven am, and it’s starting to show. Just then the doorbell rings, and Castiel who hasn’t even gotten out of the hallway opens it to the young girl wearing a Domino uniform who looks up at him with wide eyes.  
”I’ve got two pizzas for a Dean Novak?” she says questioningly. Castiel wonders if Dean gave the wrong name on purpose, or if he’s too drunk to tell the difference. Quickly, he pays the girl and nearly shuts the door in her face once the pizzas are in his hands. He kicks his shoes off and heads to the living room, where Dean is spread out on the couch with a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a glass in the other. 

”Have another shot, Cas,” he slurs, and Castiel really can’t resist. He needs to blow off some steam, and maybe this is the way to do it. 

Half an hour later, they are sitting across from each other on the floor with the pizza in between and The Lord of The Rings playing on the TV, to which Dean recites almost every line. Each time he does it with an exaggerated British accent they burst out into a fit of giggles, even though neither of them really know what’s funny. 

”YOU CANNOT PASS!” Dean exclaims suddenly, and they are rolling on the floor laughing. Castiel can’t remember the last time he laughed this much. Sure, he and Balthazar had some great times, but it never felt as genuine as this. With Dean by his side, it feels as if someone has put a colorful filter over the entire world. 

The movie finishes sometime around 8 pm, and by then they have both sobered up a little. Dean sings along to the music he started playing again, while Castiel lies next to him on the floor. 

”I forget what it’s like to have fun,” Dean admits as one song tunes out into another one.

”I’m glad we could have a fun evening, then.” Castiel reaches to squeeze his arm, but grabs his hand by mistake. Dean doesn’t let go. 

”I always wondered what it’d be like, you know. Seeing you again,” Dean explains. Castiel can hear his heartbeat in his ears.

”What was it like?”

”Like stepping outside on a sunny day. Like feeling the weight of the world being lifted off my shoulders. I don’t know why, there’s just something about you.” 

Castiel tightens his hold on Dean’s fingers and hopes that he’s not misinterpreting what Dean is trying to say. 

”When I left Kansas, I was in ruins. I’d lost my family, and then your family, and I felt as if I was all alone in the entire world. Balthazar helped me find my way back.”

”It must be tough, having your boyfriend live on the other side of the country. Are you planning to visit him soon?”

Castiel sheepishly closes his eyes and shakes his head.

”He’s not my boyfriend. Hasn’t been, for the past thirteen months.”

”Oh.”

”I couldn’t-” He swallows thickly and is glad that his judgement is buzzed by the alcohol. Otherwise, he would never have said the following words. ”I couldn’t watch him fall in love with me when I would never love him back.”

”Was he that bad in bed?”

Castiel shoves him to the side playfully, but Dean just rolls back on his side, their faces only inches apart. 

”I’d never love him because I’m already in love with this other guy.”

”Is that so? Who?”

”You, you moron. I love you.” 

Going by Dean’s expression, he thinks that they are still playing around. However, Castiel can feel the seriousness in his own eyes, and soon Dean’s laughter fades away. Candy apple green eyes blink and search Castiel’s face for something. 

The truth, Castiel realizes. Dean has always been searching for the truth. 

”You love me?” 

His voice is lined with skepticism and worry, and it hurts that he feels the need to ask Castiel to repeat himself. 

”I have loved you since that time we had sex in the Impala. Since the first time we kissed. I loved you when you took care of me after I’d been kicked out of my house. I loved you when I found you bleeding on the kitchen floor. I loved you when you walked into the café. I. Love. You. So much.”

It’s not common for Dean to be rendered speechless, but this time it seems as if Castiel has succeeded. He turns to his side so that he can see him properly, the green eyes blinking in confusion. 

”When I decided to live here with you, I thought to myself: at least I’ll get to spend some time with him. Sure, it’ll hurt as hell, but you won’t lose him again.”

”You never lost me, Dean.”

Dean opens his mouth and Castiel thinks that he’s going to say something else, but instead he is surprised by a kiss. It tastes like Dean; like whiskey and spring and pure bliss. Castiel understands that this is a win-or-lose kind of situation, so he decides to act - he climbs onto Dean to straddle his hips, intertwines their fingers above Dean’s head and kisses him breathless.

It’s been too long since they kissed. 

Dean pulls Castiel closer to reach the buttons on his shirt, which he starts working on while Castiel keeps nipping at his lips, darting into his mouth with his tongue and just allows himself to drown in everything that is Dean.

With Castiel’s shirt off, he straightens up to pull his t-shirt off as well, and once his torso is naked he looks down on Dean with a sense of sobriety. They never got this far before, not after that first time that Castiel tried to take Dean’s shirt off and he was stopped. 

Now, Dean takes hold of the hem of his t-shirt and smoothly pulls it off. He makes Castiel move to the side to give him space to take his pants and underwear off as well, and as he lies completely naked on the floor he allows Castiel to see him properly for the first time. Wanting to make things even between them, Castiel gets undressed as well before he kneels beside Dean.

The tattoos swirl around Dean’s forearms but gently fade out just above his elbows, where a criss-cross pattern of straight, sharp lines take place.

Grated steel. That’s what it looks like. Irregular patterns of bumps and lines and scar tissue that has never really healed. 

Castiel starts pressing kisses to his arms, exchanging all that hate with love, and he hopes that he can feel it. He continues across his chest, taking some time to tease his nipples before his nose is buried in soft pubes and the scars on Dean’s thighs receive their own kisses. Dean’s cock is slowly filling up, and it perks a little as Castiel kisses the shaft. 

”I love you,” he repeats, and without warning he swallows him down. A choked off gasp erupts from Dean’s chest, along with a series of mumbled words and pleas. Once Castiel pulls off, Dean is practically shaking with need.

”Dean, will you fuck me?” Castiel asks shyly, still feeling like the inexperienced one. His lips are rewarded with a kiss, before Dean does a quick naked sprint to the bathroom, returning with a bottle of lube.

”Y’never know when this might come in handy,” is his only explanation. He pops the bottle open as he rearranges them into their previous position - Castiel on top, one knee on either side of Dean’s hips. As Dean’s coated fingers work their way towards Castiel’s fluttering hole, he relaxes completely and lets Dean take control. The penetration hurts in a pleasurable way, and before long Castiel has to steady himself by planting his hands on Dean’s chest. They are both breathing heavily and judging by the heat rising in Castiel’s gut, he won’t last much longer. 

”I’m good, just _please_ fuck me,” he gasps, groaning deeply as Dean crooks his fingers and hits his prostate. In a split second the fingers disappear, before they are replaced by the swollen knot that is the head of Dean’s cock, and with two hands guiding his hips Castiel slowly sinks down on it. He’s filled up, complete, legs shaking from holding him up for so long but it’s the best feeling in the world. Leaning forwards, he captures Dean’s lips in a chaste kiss. 

”I’m gonna start moving, but you’ll need to help,” Dean mumbles, brow furrowed with deep concentration, and Castiel can’t do anything but nod before Dean pushes up into him, somehow getting them even closer and Castiel moans as his prostate is stimulated. He lifts himself up as Dean’s hips fall again, and on the next thrust he meets him halfway. It’s fast and desperate and on the verge of breaking Castiel in two, but he wouldn’t want it any other way. 

Before long they both climax, Castiel’s come painting Dean’s naked torso in white stripes. Dean’s cock pulsates in his ass before it swells and he can feel the increased pressure as Dean unloads inside him. 

It’s beautiful.

”You’re beautiful,” Castiel whispers on the way down for a kiss. There are tears on Dean’s cheeks. Castiel can’t tell which one of them they belong to. 

Dean brings trembling hands up to Castiel’s face and holds it, looking straight into his soul with a breathtaking smile on his lips. 

”I love you,” he admits, and Castiel just knows that this is the start of something absolutely wonderful.  ”If everything I’ve been through was to get me to this moment, I just want you to know that it was worth it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo here we are... 16 chapters. 68 311 words. I managed to fall more in love with Dean and Cas, and each and every one of you fantastic readers that have supported me along the way. I've said this way too many times but I'm just gonna say it again - THANK YOU. I love writing and you guys are the greatest inspiration of all. 
> 
> Feel free to check out my other *finished* Destiel fic, Hear Me. I hope you'll like it.
> 
> Now I'm going to open up a new document in "pages" on my Mac and start on my next fic. Stay tuned for more Destiel!


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